


It's Not a Lie if You Want it Enough

by EtoileGarden



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Angst, Banter, But Like Not Much, Discussion of Sexual Content, Fake Dating, Kissing, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Miscommunication, because this is mostly stupid comedy, guys there's gonna be the there's only one bed trope but flipped, hi im back back again with fake dating, idiots to lovers, o so much swearing as per usual this is ronan motherfucking lynch w r talking about, what's a better word than banter god, witty conversations except without the witty part and maybe without some of the conversation part
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-10 22:02:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20535305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EtoileGarden/pseuds/EtoileGarden
Summary: “I came to talk to you,” Adam persisted, bravely ignoring the fact that Ronan was scattering rock around his room.Ronan kicked his other shoe off, tried to think what in the hell Adam would come here to talk specifically to him about in a way which needed him to preface it by telling him he was here to talk to him. Usually if Adam was here for Ronan, it was just to hang out, or to throw stupid jibes at each other, or to crash around in the junk heap Gansey liked to refer to as their private park. Adam came here to have serious conversations with Gansey about schoolwork, and university, and theology, and science, and what the fuck ever. Adam came here to let Noah teach him skateboard tricks and to help Noah with his maths homework in return. Adam came here to muck about with Ronan. Not to talk.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> quick reminder that i don't edit yw ty

It had been an ordinary day so far. Ronan had skipped school, apart from lunch, spent the majority of his afternoon practicing skidding in the gravel pit just out of town, and had only arrived home a few minutes ago. He’d done  _ most _ of the skidding  _ inside _ his BMW, but he may also have climbed one of the gravel piles in the pit and skidded down and come out the other side rather dusty and grazed and altogether exuberant. 

When he’d crashed into Monmouth, bringing with him a small smattering of gravel still spilling out of his now ripped shirt, Adam was there, sitting on the edge of the couch with a book in his hand, and no sight of Gansey. He had obviously come here from work, his coveralls were still tied around his waist, his t-shirt underneath a little grubby and tight, stretched across his shoulders. If Ronan wasn’t careful he’d get caught staring. Adam looked up.

Ronan grunted at him, strode past to get to his room. 

“Lynch,” Adam said, the couch squeaking as he stood, “Gansey isn’t home.” 

“So?” Ronan tossed back over his shoulder, “I dunno where he is.” 

“No,” Adam was following him, his footsteps quiet even in this echoey place, “I know where he is.” 

“Good for you,” Ronan snorted, bent down to loosen his laces and then kicked one of his shoes clear across the room. Gravel and dust flew everywhere. 

“I came to talk to you,” Adam persisted, bravely ignoring the fact that Ronan was scattering rock around his room.

Ronan kicked his other shoe off, tried to think what in the hell Adam would come here to talk specifically to him about in a way which needed him to preface it by telling him he was here  _ to talk to him _ . Usually if Adam was here for Ronan, it was just to hang out, or to throw stupid jibes at each other, or to crash around in the junk heap Gansey liked to refer to as their private park. Adam came here to have serious conversations with Gansey about schoolwork, and university, and theology, and science, and what the fuck ever. Adam came here to let Noah teach him skateboard tricks and to help Noah with his maths homework in return. Adam came here to muck about with Ronan. Not to talk. 

“Ok,” Ronan grunted, swiveled in his socked feet to look at Adam, crossed his arms. He was pretty sure there was a piece of rock  _ inside his sock _ . “What?” 

“Uh,” Adam said, and if Adam was awkward about something, Ronan didn’t think that that boded any good news. “So, you know how I’ve been applying for - for scholarships?” 

Ronan shrugged. Of course. 

“I got a call from one of them today, um, one of the more… liberal ones.” 

Ronan frowned. 

“A scholarship for gay youth,” Adam said, very quickly, his face very carefully neutral, the tips of his ears very red. “And in my application I might have - I thought it would swing more in my favour if I were… if I were... actively, well, uh, gay. So I said I have a partner. Problem is, they want to meet me. And my partner. Boyfriend. At an event. This weekend. They’d pay for travel and hotel, and shit, and uh -” 

Adam paused, tipped his head as if to carefully scrutinise the tips of his dusty boots. Ronan didn’t say anything.

“I need a date,” Adam said finally, his eyes still on the floor, his hands twisted around each other. 

“A date,” Ronan replied, flat. 

“Yeah,” Adam cleared his throat. “Thought you could help.” 

If the situation hadn’t been such an enormous sucker punch, Ronan would probably have laughed. As it was, he only exhaled somewhat shakily, and turned to sit down on his bed. It turned out that there was probably gravel in his fucking pants too. 

Here was the thing. A while ago, not too long ago, Ronan had held this… this fucking hope that maybe he and Adam? Maybe he and Adam could be  _ him and Adam _ . That now they’d gotten over their petty feuding and hopped into comfortable friendly feuding they could go further and rile each other up in some new ways as well. Then they’d made friends with Blue, and Adam and Blue had become  _ Adam and Blue _ , and then just as quickly they’d broken up again, but - 

But Ronan had gotten to see what Adam was like when he liked someone. When he was attracted to them. It wasn’t that he’d dated a  _ girl  _ that had doused Ronan’s hope, it was that he had seen how Adam’s face had softened when Blue had walked into a room. How he was always wanting to have some part of him touching some part of her. How he looked to her first in a conversation, or after a joke, or when he was worried. 

Ronan was pretty sure he would have noticed if Adam had ever looked at him in that same heart stinging way he had seen him look at Blue. Adam just wasn’t into Ronan like that, and that was fucking fine. It didn’t mean that he’d been able to put away his feelings though, didn’t mean that he could stop himself from sneaking glances at Adam at every opportunity, stop himself from wanting to reach out and touch at all times, wanting to - 

So it stung, a little, that here  _ Adam  _ was, fucking asking  _ him  _ to help him find some  _ guy _ to take as a  _ date _ . 

“It’s just,” Adam muttered, leaning against the door frame of Ronan’s room in a rather scrunched up way, “I can’t - I can’t ask Gansey. I doubt his mother would be pleased and - and as much as I like Gansey I’m not sure we could be a convincing couple. And I thought about asking Noah, but, well, I also  _ want _ to get this scholarship and he does come off as rather… ditzy. And also very moneyed. Same with Gansey, actually.” 

Ronan dropped himself backwards across his mattress, stared up at the ceiling. 

“So let me get this straight,” he snapped to the spider innocently making her web on his light fitting, “you want me to find you some fucking… some fucking gay guy who’s clever, not rich, doesn’t dress like they’re poor, knows when to keep their mouth shut, and who’ll pretend to date you for a weekend? Or what? Actually date you?” 

Adam didn’t say anything. 

“I can’t help with that,” Ronan snorted, not actually at all amused, “you know my whole fucking friend group and there’s no one like that in it except you. Are you even gay?” 

“I’m bi,” Adam said, his voice tart. “And that wasn’t what I was asking you.” 

Ronan glared at the ceiling, then had a minor epiphany and rolled back upright to glare at Adam instead. “Are you seriously asking me to be your fucking fake boyfriend?” 

Adam rolled his eyes. “I was,” he said, “but now I’m not sure if I think you’re clever enough after all.” 

“That’s not how you ask someone for a favour,” Ronan grumbled, swinging one of his socked feet up onto his lap to tug the sock off and hopefully find the piece of gravel trying to become part of his little toe. 

Adam sighed. Kicked at a small puddle of gravel Ronan hadn’t even noticed he’d dropped in the doorway. 

“Ok,” he said, lifted his gaze to meet Ronan’s, and then held it firmly. “Here. Could you do me a favour, Lynch, and pretend you like me for a weekend. Food and housing supplied. You can be as anarchist as you like.”

“So you think taking  _ Noah _ , Noah who all the adults like even when he’s failing their classes, will hinder your chances of getting this scholarship, but I won’t? Please, Parrish.” 

There’s a large part of Ronan that wants to grab himself by the throat to stop himself from fighting back here. Yes, thank you, Parrish, he would love to go away for a weekend just the two of them and maybe get to hold hands and tell people they were together, and spend time where being gay wasn’t about to be a scandal and - 

“Is that a no, then?” Adam asked, his tone even and his face still neutral, but his shoulders shrugged down and his arms somehow tighter around himself. 

“Nah,” Ronan shook his head, “I’ll fucking do it.” 

“Oh,” Adam released himself, his neutral expression gone and replaced with shock. “You will?” 

“Sure,” Ronan shrugged, tugged his other sock off with a rain of gravel (how the hell hadn’t he noticed those fucking rocks???). “Any chance to get out of this fucked up place.” 

-

Gansey is surprised, when Ronan fills him in later than evening. The three of them (him, Gans, and Noah) sitting cross legged on Gansey’s bed eating jam on toast. 

“And he asked you?” Gansey confirmed, his eyebrows high on his forehead, his toast halfway to his mouth and forgotten for the last minute. “He’s not worried about - about you setting fire to anything?” 

“He’s got a sixth sense that tells him when Ronan’s about to wreck havoc,” Noah chipped in through a mouthful, “like a smoke detector.” 

“A faulty one,” Ronan shot back, “he watched me build that bonfire last week.” 

“Yeah,” Noah shrugged, grinned a very jammy grin, “we all did.” 

“True,” Ronan shrugged as well. “Anyway,” he said, turning back to Gansey, “aren’t you excited that I’ll be spending time with potential uni goers? They might turn me.” 

“I’m not sure if I’d be pleased or offended that they succeded where I failed,” Gansey replied loftily, “also not sure if I ought to be pleased or offended that Adam asked you to come with him to this.” 

Ronan shrugged. He might have left out some cruical parts of what this scholarship was exactly for, and he didn’t know how to explain to Gansey that Adam just didn’t think they’d look enough like they were attracted to each other. Honestly, Ronan thought that was probably bullshit. Adam and Gansey were so up each others asses with their mutual love of learning that they could probably be taken for a couple easy peasy, what with all their admiration for each others big brains and good looks or whatever. 

-

“So,” Declan was saying, having successfully trapped Ronan at the back of the foyer of the church in between the table of teas and a large group of elderly women (honestly, Ronan ought to have known it was a trap from the beginning when Declan had told him he needed to come to the baptism of some random baby in the middle of the week, so this was on him), “I’m going to need you and Matthew all weekend to help with the boxes. You don’t have to actually read any of the contents, I just need you two to help me go through them so we can throw out what isn’t relevant.” 

The Lynch brothers might still not be allowed on their childhood property yet, but Declan had somehow wrangled a delivery of all the filing in their parents former bedroom to be delivered to him at his little Henrietta apartment that he only used for the weekends when he returned to Henrietta for church and to terrorise his younger brothers. And also apparently for Thursday baptisms. Ronan might have missed his parents and his home, but he didn’t have any particular feeling for the tonnes of files Declan was referring to. 

“Sorry,” he drawled, reaching under Declan’s arm to snag a scone, “I’m otherwise engaged this weekend.” 

Declan snorted, swiveled a little in his fancy dress shoes to grab himself a scone too. “Burning out on the backroads doesn’t count as an excuse,” he told Ronan firmly. 

Ronan took a bite of his scone, and upped the ante, spitting out dry crumbs as he spoke. “I’m supporting my boyfriend,” he said, as clearly as one can say with a mouthful of buttered flour, “at a weekend event out of town.” 

Because, well, he figured that if Adam got to have Ronan as a pretend boyfriend for a while, Ronan should get to have  _ Adam _ as a pretend boyfriend for a while too. Plus he hadn’t had anything that had particularly surprised Declan for a while, so. 

Declan stared at him. Chewed. Swallowed. Stared. 

“Gansey?” He asked after a few more long moments of staring. 

Ronan took another bite of scone, shook his head. 

“You have a boyfriend,” Declan repeated, voice a little hushed as if he was afraid the group of old ladies might ditch their conversation about water fitness and listen in instead. “Who you’re  _ supporting _ .” 

“I can be supportive,” Ronan grunted. 

“Who is he?” Declan demanded, dropping all pretence of being interested in his scone and putting it back down on the plate he’d taken it from. “Where’s this event? How long have you been together? What -” 

“Yikes,” Ronan put his scone down next to Declan’s, “nah, I think I’ve shared enough. Gotta go, man. Give me regards to the boxes and my excuses to the priest.” 

-

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Adam groaned, near midnight that that Thursday when Ronan intercepted him on his way home. “We can’t turn up in your BMW. Lynch, do you not understand that I’m going to this for  _ financial _ help?” 

“They don’t have to know,” Ronan grunted, leaning against the railing that led up the stairs to Adam’s tiny flat, “and I hate flying, so this can be my reward for pretending to be your boyfriend for the weekend.” 

“What?” Adam scoffed, chaining his piece of shit bike to the railing, “Having to get up early to travel for longer? Sounds like a real reward, yeah.” 

“It’s that or me puking on you while we’re in a fucking tin can in the sky,” Ronan retorted, “so like, your choice.” 

Adam pulled a face, but then shrugged. “You’re buying the snacks,” he said. 

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4INd2Vr88uHdvLsP1FV2jr <- This is the playlist I'm listening to while writing, if you wanna listen :)

Ronan wasn’t exactly sure how much earlier they would have to start out to make up for not flying, but he definitely hadn’t been expecting Adam to slump down next to him at lunch on Friday and begin spouting off an itinerary. 

“Ok,” he said, no preamble, slapped a map down on top of Ronan’s sandwich. “We’ve gotta leave town by five tomorrow so you’ve gotta be at mine at four thirty,  _ in the morning, Lynch _ . We ought to arrive at the hotel by four in the afternoon, and the event tomorrow doesn’t start until six in the evening so we have just two hours of leway, and -” 

“Chill,” Ronan grumbled, snatching his sandwich from underneath the map that was still warm from being printed in the computer room, a line smudged slightly. “I’m driving, so we’ll get there early.” 

“If we’re late,” Adam said, “ because you don’t wake up in time or your driving gets us pulled over, and we don’t arrive in time for the evening event, they’re not gonna hold my spot, and we’ll have to pay the hotel, and I won’t get the scholarship, and -” 

“Parrish,” Ronan interrupted again, “I’ll be at your place at half past four in the goddamned morning. Ok? I’ll bring fucking snacks. I’ll put my fucking foor down on the pedal and drive smart. I’ll get you there in time, and then? I’ll even hold your fucking sweaty nerd hand.” 

Adam granted him a tight smile, sighed a little. Ronan folded the map up and put it in his pocket, cherished the small smile. 

“Where’s Gansey?” Adam asked, digging around in his satchel for whatever lunch he’d scrounged up for today. “Noah?” 

“Student council and band practice,” Ronan grunted, “ andif it wasn’t for the fact that I knew you’d have a panic attack if I wasn’t here to lecture about travel, I wouldn’t be here either.” 

“You’re a jerk,” Adam said, producing the rather squashed ritz bitz packet and tearing it open to shove three bits in his mouth at once. 

“Hey,” Ronan protested, snaffling a ritz or two for himself as well, dodging Adam’s half hearted swipe with practiced ease, “I  _ am _ here, so,  _ ergo _ , I am not a jerk.” 

“Jerk for the fact that I know you considered not coming anyway,” Adam replied, reached over to help himself to a handful of chips from the packet by Ronan’s knee. “And you’re a jerk in general, so.” 

“Way to ensure I get to yours early,” Ronan said, pulling a fake pout, “I might be too insulted to get up in time.” 

“You do that,” Adam said carefully, “and I’ll shave your eyebrows off in your sleep.” 

“I think I could pull that off,” Ronan grinned back, “it’ll probably add to my punk look.” 

“Nah,” Adam laughed through a mouthful of chips, “it’ll just let your true geek shine out.” 

-

“Noah,” Ronan hissed, hissing because he’d rather be raising his voice and being ... obnoxious, but he doesn’t want to clue Gansey in that he’s about to be having a secret conversation so he has to be quiet, but he also has to vocalise that this is about to be a dramatic secret conversation. 

Not that this was a planned secret conversation, but. 

“Noah,” he hissed again, pushed the door open, snorted at the sight of Noah sitting up in bed with his eye mask on and pulling his ear plugs out. “Shit, man,” he said, voice low, “it’s a wonder your heard me at all.” 

“I have supernatural senses,” Noah offered through a half yawn as he peeled off his eye mask and peered through the murk of his room at Ronan still standing in the doorway. “Wassup?” 

Ronan shut the door behind him, made his way across the room, careful to avoid the extra creaky floorboards, and sat down on Noah’s bed half on Noah’s lap. 

Noah groaned, patted half blind at Ronan’s torso, and then shoved him a little so the majority of Ronan’s weight was no longer on him. “What?” he repeated, pinched Ronan’s side, “Lynch?” 

“I’vetatellyouasecret,” Ronan said, then cleared his throat. “I’ve gotta tell you a secret,” he repeated, slower. 

Noah quite visibly brightened. “Oh,” he said, “I love secrets! Except,” now his sudden exuberance dampened a little again. “Except when they’re your whole load of like, super sad secrets. It’s not another one of them, is it?” 

“No,” Ronan reached to tweak Noah’s nose, but was still a little night blind and just poked him in the eye instead. “Probably not.” 

“Ow,” Noah complained, “ughhh. Fine. Go on.” 

“Adam and I are gonna be pretending to be boyfriends for the weekend because the scholarship is for gay youth and Adam’s an idiot and thought he had to have like, proof that he likes guys or some shit so he asked me and I said yes because I’m an idiot and thought I could be just fine all weekend about holding hands in public with this guy I’ve had a boner for since like, last century.” 

He felt a little light headed now all that was out. Possibly because he hadn’t paused for breath. Noah snorted. Ronan poked him hard in the side. 

“Ow,” Noah said again, poked Ronan back. “Ok, ok, geez, Ronan,” he said, voice a little too amused for Ronan’s current predicament. “You’re sure this isn’t some wacky dream you just woke up from?” 

“Sure,” Ronan grunted back, unamused. “This is real. And I’m getting up in like… like five hours to go spend two full days together without… without… God I don’t know. Noah. I’m gonna fuck something up.” 

“Like with your pyromania?” Noah suggested, sounding quite sleepy again now. 

“No,” Ronan hissed, jiggled his knee impatiently. “With my stupid mouth. And my stupid brain. Like. I’ll be a huge ass and cost him his scholarship, or, I’ll be a stupid ass and cost  _ me _ his friendship, or -” 

“Lynch,” Noah yawned, “Lynch. Please. Please go to bed. If you’re this worried you’re gonna be stupid, I don’t think you’re actually going to  _ be _ stupid.” 

“Czerny,” Ronan grumbled, “this isn’t helping at all. You’re shit at this.” 

“Mhm,” Noah agreed, quite happy to agree, “look. Parrish obviously thinks you can hold it together for a weekend. He’s pretty clever, so just believe him. And as for your huge ass crush? If you can get away with literally wrestling with him for  _ half an hour _ in just your fucking swim shorts at the river this summer? You can spend a weekend just him and you while keeping your boner under control.” 

This did actually kind of help. 

“You’re an ass,” Ronan mumbled. 

“Yeah,” Noah laughed, patted Ronan on the cheek. “Love you too, bud. Go to bed.” 

“Mm,” Ronan said, stood up, “love you, shit face.” 

“Hugs and kisses,” Noah said, put his eyemask back on. 

-

Seeing Adam first thing in the morning was something Ronan had literally dreamed about, but it was always the type of seeing him first thing where he opens his eyes and Adam’s there in bed with him. Not the kind of seeing him first thing where first Ronan had to get the fuck out of bed, and shower, and get clean, and grab his fucking bag, and get in his car which is cold from the night, and driving through town, and climbing the fucking stairs to Adam’s flat, and knocking, and  _ then seeing Adam’s face _ . 

Adam’s face looked very grumpy. 

“Morning,” it grunted, moving away from the door to let Ronan in. 

Adam was dressed, his hair still sticking up wildly from his pillow, but his face was drawn tightly in a way Ronan recognised as him having not actually slept. 

“You ready?” Ronan asked, standing in the doorway and glancing around Adam’s small flat. 

At the small bag packed at the foot of Adam’s mattress, the books piled on his makeshift desk, the papers spread across it. Adam’s one mug sitting on the papers, a coffee ring marking where it had been just before. It looked a lot like Adam had been sitting at his desk for very long hours very recently instead of sleeping. 

“Uh-huh,” Adam mumbled. He bent at the waist, and then just dropped onto his bed and reached for his scuffed trainers. “Just gotta. Put m’shoes on.” 

“So,” Ronan said, rapped on the doorway just for the sake of it, “did you get any fucking sleep last night? Or am I driving the whole damn way?” 

“I got some sleep,” Adam said to his shoes. He was tying his laces slowly, like his hands were working against him, stiff with overuse and fatigue. “I figured I could take over when you get tired. I’ll nap a bit in the car until then.” 

“Whatever,” Ronan said, watched as Adam tightened his laces, one loop scraping over a dry knuckle and cracking the skin. “I don’t care.” 

Adam ignored his bleeding finger, stood slowly, grabbed his backpack, and faced Ronan. “Do you need to fill up before we leave? I’ll pay for the petrol.” 

Ronan had thought about this already. 

“I filled up yesterday,” he said, “because I take care of my baby. C’mon, if we keep this head start we can take a longer lunch break.” 

“We’re not taking a lunch break,” Adam replied, but followed after Ronan anyway. 

-

Ronan had possibly gone overboard with the providing snacks thing, but he wasn’t going to reveal this to Adam until necessary. He’d done his roadtrip shop last night, and had come away with a lot more than he had walked in intending to get. He had muslie bars, and jerky, and chips, and juice, and water, and coke, and biscuits, and sour worms, and chocolate bars, and peanut butter cups, and - too much. 

He’d shoved some of the haul into the glove box so that when Adam’s box announced his hunger with its first growls or whatever, Ronan could just reach over and unleash food upon him. The rest he’d stashed in the grocery bags in the boot along with his half full duffel bag of clothes, toothbrush, a couple of things Chainsaw had snuck in, earphones, and charger. He figured it was only a weekend, the most important thing he bring was his fucking underwear, and he’d brought spare just in case. 

-

Adam was asleep again within a few minutes of Ronan starting the car up, which Ronan didn’t mind. He was perfectly fine with Adam actually getting to sleep, and he - though embarrassed somewhat to admit it even to himself - quite enjoyed seeing how soft Adam looked once he was truly asleep. Once he’d dropped his multitude of defences. 

Plus, Ronan really did enjoy driving in the morning, when there were barely any other cars on the road to distract from the real joy of driving, and when the sun was just a suggestion of light on the edge of the world, and the scenery around them could have been brought straight from one of his dreams. 

It was peaceful, and with Adam sitting in his passenger seat, not  _ quite _ snoring, it was even pleasantly peaceful. 

He put his music on his own playlist which wasn’t filled with clanging, stuck  _ mostly _ to the speed limit, and drove quite happily, glancing to Adam at every stop sign or tight turn, dragging his eyes away from Adam’s skin to focus back on the road. 

They’d been driving like that for a good hour, maybe two, when Ronan glanced at Adam as he idled at an intersection, and almost pissed himself because Adam was awake and looking at him already. 

“ _ Jesus _ up a tree! Parrish!” Ronan snapped, gripping the wheel tightly so as not to swerve into oncoming traffic, “You couldn’t warn a guy?” 

Adam yawned, seemingly unperturbed by Ronan’s shock and foul mouth. 

“Sure,” he said, “next time I’ll set an alarm to go off a minute before I wake up.” 

“Sounds good to me,” Ronan said, taking advantage of Adam being awake, to zip into a gap in traffic that saner drivers might not have picked. “At least you look less like death now.” 

“Gee,” Adam said, yawned again, “thanks.” He was twisting in his seat, looking out the windows as if in search for a sign to locate them, before slumping back down and rubbing at his cheek in a decidedly annoyingly cute way. “Where are we?” 

“An hour away from this great breakfast bar,” Ronan replied, “they do drive through and the best waffles you’ve ever seen.” 

Adam opened his mouth, undoubtedly to say something about how they weren’t going to spend money on waffles or whatever, but his stomach interrupted to gurgle loudly. Ronan’s hand shot out immediately, apparently having been on its mark and waiting for the signal since Ronan had gotten into the car, and dragged the glove box open. 

“Uh,” Adam said, as snacks cascaded onto his lap. “Hm,” Adam added, picking up the berry muesli bar which Ronan had seen him send covetous looks at when Blue had had the same kind a week previous. “I see you took the getting the snacks task to heart, huh?” 

“I’m an all or nothing kinda guy,” Ronan replied simply, his hand returned to the wheel pretending not to be all kinds of excited and smug that it had pleased Adam so well. “Pass me some jerky?” 

Adam shuffled around in the pile of food in his lap, picked out a jerky stick, and opened it for Ronan before handing it over. While Ronan shoved the stick into his mouth to chew it like some ill-thought out piece of chewing gum, Adam, in quick succession, ate two muesli bars, a snickers, a biscuit, and a third berry muesli bar. The third one he ate slowly, like he wasn’t starving anymore and trusted himself to savor it. 

“We’ve gotta stop in an hour for the waffles,” Ronan said, speaking loudly over the crunching of the bar, and sloppily around the jerky in his own mouth, “‘cos I need coffee, and you need coffee, and I didn’t pack any.” 

“Thought you were an all or nothing kinda guy?” Adam shot back, sounding perfectly happy. 

“I am,” Ronan replied, “but if I brought coffee there are too many variables for it go wrong, and if I supplied us with shitty coffee, my all or nothing status would have been impinged on.” 

“I dunno if that properly follows through,” Adam said, his mouth contorting in strange ways as he tried to get a piece of muesli out from between his teeth while he talked, “but I guess I do want coffee.” 

-

Now that Adam was awake, and fed, and looking passably human (this was a lie, actually, in this morning light, and in such close quarters to a recently rested and fed Adam Parrish, Ronan was having stupid little thoughts in which he was likening Adam to some sort of elven god. A dryad. A sun being. FUCK), and Ronan thought it was safe to change the music up from peaceful(ish) to Not At All Peaceful, I Hope You Brought Earplugs, Parrish. 

“Ahhhh,” Adam said, the moment the music slipped from cello to techno beats, “I don’t think so.” He reached over to where Ronan was still fiddling with the music with one hand, and swatted Ronan’s hand away. “I choose the music.” 

“Oi,” Ronan said, swatted Adam’s hand back, a little clumsily because he was trying to keep his eyes on the road, “I’m driving, so I choose.” 

“Nah,” Adam said, his voice way too cheerful, “you driving isn’t a chore for you, but it will be a chore for me if I have to sit here and listen to your terrible, bone shaking music.” 

Ronan huffed out discontent. “Well I’ve had enough of the fucking lullaby music,” he said, “and I need music to drive with.” 

“That’s fine,” Adam retorted, scooping Ronan’s phone up and unlocking it easily, “you can still choose the music, and I’ll put it on if I like it.” 

“You know shit all about music,” Ronan snorted, but didn’t try to grab his phone back, instead replaced his hand on the wheel and grinned at the windshield. “You’ll just say no to everything I suggest.” 

“I will if it’s shitty,” Adam agreed, “so suggest music that I’ll like.” 

Ronan snorted again, but really only to cover up the fact that his brain was very quickly sifting through all the songs he knew from experience that Adam would like, and which others he could infer from them that Adam would like too. 

“Hurry up,” Adam said, “or I’ll just go to spotify and put on their first pop playlist.” 

“Fuck,” Ronan said, “you fiend, Parrish. That’s disgusting! Fine. Ok. Play.... uh, ‘We have it all’ by, uh, what’re they called. Pim Stones?” 

He watched out of the corner of his eye as Adam fiddled about on Ronan’s phone to get the music, and then watched more carefully as the music turned on and Adam tilted his head to one side to listen. 

“This passes,” Adam grinned, and Ronan turned his attention properly back to the road, trying to keep his own grin to low beam. “I don’t think you’ve played these guys to me before?” 

“I haven’t,” Ronan agreed, “because I do prefer my terrible, bone shaking music.” 

Adam kept grinning. 

They passed the next hour like this, Ronan suggesting music he hoped Adam would like, Adam liking  _ most _ of the music Ronan suggested sincerely. Ronan occasionally suggesting awful terrible songs he knew would make Adam yell and laugh and turn it off, Adam retaliating by putting some fake country music on. Ronan suggesting music he  _ knew _ Adam would like. Adam liking the music. ‘

-

“We’re making good time,” Ronan said as they pulled into the small town that housed the great waffle house. “We could actually stop and eat inside. Stretch our legs a bit?” 

Adam looked like he was going to say no, but instead he checked the time, and shrugged. “Ok,” he said. 

Ronan was winning a lot more today than he thought he would. They drove up to the waffle house to the tune of some melancholy Kaleo that Adam had attached himself to, and when Ronan parked, Adam reached over and touched his hand still on the hand break. 

“Uh,” Adam said, while Ronan looked down at Adam’s hand on his. “So, I thought - well.” 

“What?” Ronan snapped, “What did you think?” 

Adam didn’t withdraw his hand at the snapping, but the relaxed line of his body stiffened up again and he raised his eyebrows at Ronan. 

“We should get some practice in,” Adam said stiffly, “at pretending to be together. So we don’t blow it the moment we arrive at dinner tonight.” 

Ronan frowned. “What?” he asked, “Practice like what?” 

“I thought,” Adam shrugged, “holding hands. We could start pretending now, y’know? Act like we’re a couple.” 

Ronan’s brain didn’t quite short-circuit, because he had prepared himself to hold hands with Adam  _ today _ , but it did fizzle out a little bit, because this was a lot sooner than he had expected. He cleared his throat. 

“Fine,” he said, “but this means you’re not allowed to flirt with our waitress,” he added, flipping his hand over and grabbing onto Adam’s. 

Adam frowned back at him, shifting his hand in Ronan’s to hold it back in a more comfortable way. “That’s fine?” he said, “Since when do I make a habit of flirting with waitresses?” 

Ronan raised his eyebrows darkly and declined to comment. 

-

They walked into the building hand in hand, which was definitely not causing Ronan to sweat a hell of a lot and to fix his face into a bit of a deeper scowl than usual as if he were daring anyone around them to comment. Adam did the speaking, asking for a booth, led Ronan over to the booth, sat Ronan down, squished in next to him. 

Maybe Ronan would end up short-circuiting at some point today, because he had thought that Adam would be more awkward about this, wouldn’t be able to just take Ronan’s hand and treat it like normal, especially in public. That, more than anything, probably cemented the fact that Adam didn’t have a crush on Ronan back, because Ronan felt a bit like he was falling apart at just these very simple moments of public affection, and Adam appeared entirely unaffected.

In fact, at this very moment, Adam was carefully scrunching his arm between the booth and Ronan’s waist, and curling his hand around Ronan’s side while he reached with his other hand to pull the menu closer. 

“Is this okay?” Adam asked, voice low, head down. 

“Sure,” Ronan growled, “Whaddya want? I’m buying.” 

“Lynch,” Adam said, “I don’t need you to-” 

“Fuck off, Parrish,” Ronan interrupted, “we’re practicing being boyfriends, remember? Lemme fund this date, you can get the next one.” 

“Huh,” Adam said, “so everytime we go out to eat together it’s a date?” 

“Uh,” Ronan snorted, “yeah. Like we’d get ourselves together enough to plan an actual date. Eating together is like what most dates are anyway, right?” 

Adam shrugged, his arm tugging around Ronan. “Sure,” he said. “Fine, but I  _ am _ paying for our next meal.” 

“Yeah you are,” Ronan replied, “I’m not gonna put all the work in on this relationship.” 

“Ok,  _ honey _ ,” Adam drawled. 

The bottom of Ronan’s stomach absolutely stayed put. 

“Are we seriously the type of boyfriends who use pet names?” Ronan growled. 

“Maybe,” Adam said, “maybe just sarcastically.” 

“Oh,” Ronan sneered. “Good to know, doll.” 

“Ew,” Adam said,  _ giggled _ , “okay, Lynch, I get it. No pet names. D’you know what you wanna eat? I want the cherry ones.” 


	3. Chapter 3

It was really only through sheer will power that Ronan didn’t disintegrate during breakfast. The biggest problem here wasn’t that they were engaged in a fake act about something that Ronan wished was real - though that was definitely a problem - it was the fact that they were both ridiculously competitive.

When the waitress came to take their order, Adam got in first and ordered for Ronan, squeezing him around the waist as he did. Ronan upped the ante by saying thank you and placing a sloppy kiss on Adam’s cheek before the poor waitress could leave. Adam’s cheeks had flushed, and he’d leaned even closer in against Ronan in faux intimacy and whispered in his ear that  _ that _ had been cheating. 

Ronan had shrugged in reply and mumbled something about how Adam hadn’t said anything about rules, and Adam had gotten this sly little look in his eye, and when the waitress came with their coffees, he had put on his sweetest slowest voice and called Ronan his ‘sugar dumplin’ as he apologised to her for their PDA. 

It had been a relief to get back into the car, to be quite fucking honest. 

Neither of them said anything for the first five minutes back on the road, though Ronan was pretty sure Adam was just silent because he was digesting. 

“Ok,” Ronan said loudly as he paused at a red light. “We gotta talk.” 

He didn’t look at Adam, but he could see him in his peripheral, stiffening like Ronan had just insulted him in a non-joke way. 

“Sure,” Adam said, and this time when his accent came out all slow, it wasn’t syrupy. 

“So, uh,” Ronan cleared his throat, kept his eyes focused hard on the road. “Are we actually gonna be kissing for this? And I know I was the one who kissed you before, but uh, like, yeah. How far are we taking this thing?” 

Adam exhaled slowly. “Uh,” he said, the both of them apparently proficient in mumbling today, “I hadn’t thought that far.” 

Adam always thought things all the way through. He had a fucking twenty year plan, for fucks sake. He always thought things through except when he didn’t, and it was very inconvenient for Ronan in particular that this was one of those times. 

“Like, I don’t  _ care _ ,” Ronan flustered, stepping too hard on the accelerator as the light turned green and making his wheels screech a little. “If we gotta - yeah. I said yes to this stupid ass plan, I just figured you’d know what the actual plan was.” 

“I guess,” Adam said carefully, “I guess we kiss if… if the situation calls for it. I think a lot of this will be played by ear.” 

This was a ridiculous conversation and Ronan wished he had not brought it up. 

“Ok,” Ronan said, “whatever.” 

“Whatever,” Adam agreed, then, “what music should I put on?” 

-

They got to the hotel in plenty of time, despite taking a lunch break. It wasn’t the fanciest hotel Ronan had been in (there had been one time a couple of years ago he had joined the Gansey’s on holiday and there had been caviar in the massive fridge in the room he and Gans had shared), but it was still pretty nice, and he could tell Adam was a little… not quite uncomfortable, but definitely not  _ comfortable _ being there. 

Ronan had grabbed both their bags when they’d gotten out, citing that he was just doing ‘boyfriend’ duty, and once he’d slung them both over his shoulders, Adam had grabbed his hand, citing back that he too was just doing ‘boyfriend duty’. 

They signed in at the front desk, and some random dude had offered to carry their bags up, and Ronan had glared at him, and they got room cards, and Ronan had not at all at all at all considered the fact that he was about to be sharing a singular hotel room with Adam under the assumption that they were  _ together _ and that there would be only one bed and oh God he wasn’t entirely sure if he was gonna be able to hold it together if - 

There were two beds in the hotel room. 

“Oh,” Adam said, he dropped his key card onto the polished desk by the door. “I, uh, I thought there was gonna be - uh - good thing there’re two beds, huh?” 

Ronan grunted in response. He tossed his half full bag at one of the beds, and walked over to the other bed to put Adam’s bag down on it. He’d forgotten the fucking snacks in the car. 

“Yeah,” he mumbled, crossed the room again to open the bathroom door and look in. You could tell a lot about a hotel by what their bathrooms looked like. “It’s not like we have to pretend behind closed doors.” 

“Mm,” Adam agreed. He hadn’t moved from the doorway, though he had closed the door. 

The shower looked nice, and they hadn’t folded the damn toilet paper into a weird as fuck pattern. Good enough. 

“It’s not like they’d know,” Adam mumbled, “it’s not like they’ll come by to like… to check we’re a real couple.” 

“Nah,” Ronan shut the bathroom door again and stepped over to flop onto the bed his bag was on. “But they might drop by anyway.” 

“That’s true,” Adam said. He finally pushed away from the door and stepped over to perch on the edge of the bed with Ronan. “But they probably wouldn’t notice. Or care.” 

“Mm,” Ronan said. 

“It might be safer though,” Adam mumbled to the wall opposite. “Y’know. Like. I dunno. Someone might come around and like, see, and even if they’re not - I doubt anyone would immediately jump to the conclusion that we’re  _ not _ together, but like, we don’t want anyone wondering if we’re like, in a rocky place or whatever, and -”

“Mary under the fucking hill,” Ronan groaned, interrupting Adam’s flow of ridiculousness. “Sure I’ll fucking sleep with you. You could’ve just asked, man.” 

Adam shrugged. “Sure,” he said. 

“I get left side,” Ronan said, doing his best not to sound like his heart was in the process of attempting to escape out his mouth. “You better not steal the blankets.” 

“Uh,” Adam said, somehow suddenly at ease and genial as he dropped himself backwards on the mattress. “ _ You’d _ better not steal the blankets, dickhead.” 

Ronan snorted, shifted backwards and lunged up so he could grab Adam in a headlock and tugged him down. Adam yelled something incoherent through a laugh, and elbowed Ronan, wrestling back until he’d gotten out of the headlock and muscled his way on top to pin Ronan down with his knees on either side of his hips and his hands gripping Ronan’s wrists above his head. 

Ronan was quite forcibly reminded of Noah telling him he’d be fine this weekend because he had been fine wrestling with Adam over summer. What Noah had failed to take into account was that that wrestling session had been held in public, on an uncomfortable surface, and also he had been wearing undies under his shorts because they weren’t his swim shorts he’d just jumped in the fucking water fully dressed and he’d managed to fucking hide the fact that he was maybe not quite uneffected by Adam so fucking close. 

This wrestling session was, well, private, and that was the biggest factor here. 

He rolled over so that Adam was at least not on top of him anymore. 

“We, uh,” Adam panted, letting go of Ronan’s arms suddenly, “we should get ready. To go. I need a shower.” 

“Yeah you do,” Ronan said, grinning as much as he was able, “you stink.” 

Adam laughed, sat up, shoved Ronan, grabbed his bag, and disappeared into the bathroom. 

Fuck, Ronan mouthed to the ceiling. 

-

He went back down to the carpark while Adam showered, to grab the snack bags and also his phone charger which he’d forgotten was plugged into the car. Back in the lobby, waiting for the lift to arrive, he realised that he and Adam must have been some of the earlier ones to arrive, because he could count three - no, four - definitely gay couples hanging about, waiting at the front desk, standing by the lifts. He couldn’t tell if any of the people by themselves were gay though, it wasn’t like he could detect other gays through like, x-ray(nbow) vision. 

He got in the lift with one of the couples, who were quite possibly the most out version of gay he had ever seen in real life (though that wasn’t hard seeing as he lived in Henrietta). Two women, hand in hand with fingers interlocked. One of them with shaved sides and a brightly dyed mohawk, the other in a rainbow tie dye dress that was almost level with Blue Sargant style. The mohawk one was wearing a t-shirt that said  _ Fay as Guck _ . Tie dye lady was carrying a back pack that had a bright yellow patch on it declaring that  _ Nobody knows I’m a Lesbian _ . 

“Are you here for the scholarship?” Tie dye asked, breaking the social rules of please don’t talk to me in this elevator. 

“No,” Ronan grunted, then realised he would probably end up sitting next to them at the event tonight knowing his fucking luck, and attempted to clarify. “Yes. I mean. My boyfriend is. I’m here for him.” 

_ His boyfriend _ . 

“Oh nice,” Tie dye said, smiled wide enough that her cheeks bumped her glasses up. “Me and Kit both applied. Is your boyfriend here yet?” 

“Uh-huh,” Ronan said. 

“So are you planning on taking a gap year?” Tie dye continued on, “Or you just didn’t get in in time to apply?” 

“Jesus,” Ronan whispered. 

“Sorry,” Tie dye said, “uh, didn’t mean to be so nosy, just, y’know, it’s exciting. Right, babe?” 

“It is exciting,” Babe/Kit assured her girlfriend in a low voice, “but possibly some people need a nap first.” 

Ronan did agree with that, but it wasn’t like he wanted it fucking pointed out. The lift dinged at his floor. He figured that he  _ was _ supposed to be playing the role of supportive boyfriend, and he  _ did _ want Adam to do the fucking best he could here, so he paused a moment before stepping out. 

“Uh,” he said, “Probably see you guys tonight. With my boyf- Adam. I’m Ronan.” 

He stepped out, the doors began to close, Tie dye waved happily at him. 

“I’m Carinne!” She said, and the doors shut. 

God. He hadn’t considered how much social energy this was gonna fucking take. He let himself in with his card at their room, and paused in the doorway at the sight of Adam sitting scrunched up on the edge of the closest bed in only his towel with his head in his hands. He only saw a bare millisecond of this, though, as as soon as Ronan stepped in, Adam looked up and dropped his hands to the bed on either side of him. 

“Where did you go?” Adam asked, cleared his throat, “You didn’t say you were leaving.” 

Ronan held up the bag of snacks. “Grabbing these from the car,” he said, “didn’t realise I had to check in with you for my every fucking move.”

Adam looked like he was going to retort back with something snappy and waspish, but instead he pursed his lips and looked at his towel covered knees. 

“You don’t,” he said, “I just - whatever.” 

“Oh?” Ronan threw the snack bag at the bed, where it landed with a series of crinkles just behind Adam. “Is that what you think dating is, huh?” 

“No,” Adam snapped. “Christ, Lynch. It wasn’t that I - look, never mind.” 

“I’m gonna shower, then,” Ronan said, “so I’ll be right the fuck through this door, if that’s okay with you?” 

“Stop it,” Adam gritted out. 

-

The shower was nice, though the pressure wasn’t as good as Ronan would have liked. Not that that really mattered too much seeing as Monmouth’s shower pressure seemed to be constantly stuck on backyard sprinkler pressure. 

  
He knew he shouldn’t have been a dick just then. But. it was difficult not to when Adam had looked so --- so uncomposed and upset about something a moment before and then hidden all his emotions away so quickly and neatly and had them clearly labeled as Not For Ronan. And also Ronan was a bit of an ass who had been told a few times by Declan that he dealt with his emotions by being rude to other people. 

He had planned to come back to the room and tell Adam about Tie dye and Mohawk, or to complain about how slow the lifts here were, or to point out that the air freshener scent in the lobby was the same one that Principal Childs used in his office.

He changed back into the clothes he had been wearing before the shower after he got out, opened the bathroom door, and found Adam still sitting on the bed, still in his towel, his face still that sort of stiff upset it got when he was too tired of entirely blanking his expression out. 

“I didn’t mean to be an asshole,” Adam said before Ronan could voice his confusion at Adam not even being dressed. “And I’m sorry about it. I worried I’d… scared you off. Shouldn’t’ve taken it out on you.” 

First of all, Ronan had no fucking clue what was supposed to have scared him off. Secondly, weird being apologised to for once. 

“Uh,” Ronan said, tugged at his shirt where he hadn’t pulled it down properly and it was still up by his armpit. “Nah. Not scared off. Weirdo.” 

Adam nodded. 

“Hey,” Ronan said, all but threw himself at the bed so that it bounced when he landed. “Parrish.” 

“Hm,” Adam said, steadying himself carefully with one hand, and gripping tightly at his towel with the other. 

“I know you’re not the controlling type of boyfriend, honey,” Ronan drawled, rolling onto his side and propping his head up on his hand, “so chill out,  _ baby _ .” 

Adam was silent for one very long moment, and then he smiled - not quite his real smile, but close enough for now -, and rolled his eyes. 

“Okay then, sweetie,” Adam said, shook his head in amusement. “Are you gonna get dressed for the dinner?” 

“Oh man,” Ronan pulled his face into a pout, “now you wanna tell me what to wear too?” 

“Dick,” Adam snorted, poked Ronan in the side. 

“Hey,” Ronan yelped, swatted at Adam’s hand. “You can’t be telling me to get dressed right now, anyway, you’re still in your fucking towel!” 

“Well,” Adam shrugged, poked Ronan again, swiftly dodging Ronan’s hand playing defence. “Maybe I just wanted to show off my physique?” 

If they were actually dating here, Ronan might have said something about how Adam was welcome to show off his physique any fucking time he wanted to, or like, how it was easier to show off your physique without a towel in the way, or - who the fuck knows. 

“Pfft,” Ronan snorted, “what fucking physique?” 

“Shit head,” Adam grinned. 

-

Ronan did get changed, mostly on so he had something to do while  _ Adam _ got dressed that didn’t involve staring at the opposite wall. It was stupid, because he had never been so awkward and odd around Adam before, not even a naked Adam (not that that happened very often, and in fact had only happened twice). He was certain he was gonna entirely blow his cover and Adam was gonna figure it out and Ronan wouldn’t even be able to deny it. 

Apparently Chainsaw hadn’t been the only one sneaking stuff into his bag, because he found his suit folded neatly inside too, and he knew only one person who would fold a fucking suit so prettily even though it was about to be put in a fucking bag. He wasn’t about to wear a suit for anything less than a fucking funeral at this point, but he did put the (now) rumpled buttoned shirt on to tuck into his ripped black jeans because he did want to make a  _ little _ bit of an effort. He left the shirt unbuttoned enough that his tattoo was easily visible and he was definitely at the point in which Gansey would be fussing about trying to button him up and straighten him out. He was gonna wear his leather jacket over top, to definitely hammer in the fact that A. he wasn’t a posh mother fucker, and B. he wasn’t a cishet bitch.

Adam was wearing dark slacks with a extremely crisp looking jumper that Ronan was pretty sure he recognised. 

“Is that my jumper?” Ronan asked, sprawling out on the bed he’d tipped his entire bag out on, and propping his head up in his hands as he watched Adam on the other bed start lacing his shoes up. 

Adam glanced at him, his face mostly blank, but his vague guilt obvious in the dip of his eyebrows. 

“You never wore it,” Adam said. 

“Yeah,” Ronan snorted, “because it was a birthday gift from Declan. I didn’t even notice it was gone. When did you take it?” 

“The other day,” Adam said, paused, added; “I don’t make a habit of picking through your trash and stealing stuff.” 

Ronan snorted, reached into the snacks bag to grab a bag of mini m&m’s and chucked it at Adam. 

“You can go through my shitty stuff any day,” he said, ducking lazily as Adam returned the m&m’s with force. “You’re right that I hardly wear half of it. It’s only going to waste, molding in my wardrobe.” 

“Molding on your floor,” Adam shot back, “and I’m gonna give this back to you.” 

“No you aren’t,” Ronan snorted, “I don’t want it. And anyway. It looks good on you.” 

“Oh,” Adam said, he looked away from Ronan. 

Ronan threw a licorice log at Adam. 

“Hey,” Adam said, not throwing the log back, but picking it up and peeling it to eat instead. “You sure you wanna do this?” 

“Huh?” 

“‘Cos you can still back out,” Adam mumbled, took a small bite of licorice. “No one knows you here. I could say you got sick. Or something.” 

“Nah you can’t,” Ronan said, “I forgot to say, I met a couple of other applicants downstairs. Told them I’d probably see them tonight. With my boyfriend. Who I mentioned by name. So, they know about us.” 

“Oh,” Adam said, furrowed his eyebrows as he looked up at Ronan. “You talked to people? Of your own volition?” 

“Ah fuck off,” Ronan laughed, “I’m not as anti-social as some might have you believe.” 

“By some, I assume you mean yourself?” Adam said with a wry grin, “You’ve told me that you’d prefer to be eaten alive by toothless eels rather than have to hold a full conversation from anyone at our school.” 

“Uh, yeah,” Ronan shrugged, picked through the now spilled snacks to find a raisin box, “and I stand by that statement. Not everyone is as shitty as Aglionby assholes, though.” 

“Wow,” Adam snorted, “I mean, we gotta get a fucking toothless eel in here, huh? Here you are, holding a full conversation with me, an Aglionby asshole. Not to mention Gansey and Noah.” 

“Please,” Ronan shook his head, “you don’t count.” 

Adam bristled. He opened his mouth like he was about to say something a bit snappish and cutting and hurt, so Ronan got in first. 

“Not like that, you molerat,” Ronan said, “you’re fucking better than Aglionby.” 

Adam shut his mouth. 

“Gans and Noah on the other hand,” Ronan continued, trying to make sure he wasn’t being  _ too  _ sincere right now, “damn. They some real Aglionby assholes. They should get matching jackets.” 

“They already have,” Adam said, trying and failing to hide his amusement, “Their Aglionby sports jackets!” 

“Oh God,” Ronan said, a realisation dawning and hitting him smack in the fucking face. “I have one of those too!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> o ronan u r a loser


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not much happens in this chp....... unless????

The dinner was being held in the hotel, which was useful because Ronan was feeling lazy and not at all like having to explore and navigate when he wasn’t allowed to hoon around like a maniac. 

“Hang on,” Ronan said, out in the hallway by the lift when Adam tried to take his hand. 

“Oh,” Adam said, pulled his hand away quickly. “Sorry.” 

“Nah, idiot,” Ronan grunted, snatched Adam’s hand back, “look, we wanna sell this, yeah?” 

Adam nodded, his hand limp in Ronan’s. 

“So,” Ronan said, still grunting, because it was difficult to speak while your heart’s biggest obsession just  _ wasn’t holding your hand back _ . “We should hold hands,  _ like this _ ,” he crossed their wrists together as he spoke, interlaced their fingers. “It’s more… intimate like. Like. Like friends can hold hands, but this is how… how  _ boyfriends _ hold fucking hands.” 

Adam’s hand was sweaty, Ronan realised how very little he cared about that. 

“That’s true,” Adam said, and now, finally, he was actually holding Ronan’s hand back. He squeezed Ronan’s hand, jostled his shoulder against Ronan’s. “Aren’t you fucking clever?” 

Adam was swearing a lot more than usual, and Ronan couldn’t figure out if it was because Adam was nervous about this event, or because he had spent a day consistently with Ronan and Ronan wore off on (or wore out) people,  _ or _ if Adam was just trying to make himself match Ronan more as some other stupid thing to try and convince people they were dating. 

Honestly. If Ronan was straight with himself (which, hah, could not happen for obvious reasons), he would properly acknowledge the fact that no one would notice they weren’t dating even if they didn’t try at all. So long as Adam introduced Ronan as his boyfriend, no one would care if they were holding hands, or touching, or sharing a bed, or anything. 

Not that Ronan was going to point this out to Adam, especially seeing as he was doing his best to ignore this particular piece of intelligence. 

“Thanks for noticing,” Ronan sneered back, and then they got into the lift. 

-

It was a bit of a boring event, really. They all went in and picked up name cards at the door, and found their seats and their tables, and introduced themselves to their seat mates (Tie dye and Mohawk were  _ not _ at their table), and then listened to the introductory speaker. Ronan gathered that the scholarship was run by one very (very fucking) rich family, and it was named the ‘Gabbie Williams Gay Youth Scholarship’ after their deceased daughter, because apparently all assistance for gay people had to be inspired by a dead gay person. Not that he was complaining about this one. It seemed fine. The family were only the money bags and the sad story, they left the running of the charity to actually LGBTQ+ people, though Ronan didn’t actually listen to the how and about of that, because he tuned out around about the same time that Adam’s thumb started moving against Ronan’s hand. 

They had let go of each other’s hands while they’d been finding their table, and talking to their table mates and whatever, but as soon as the speakers starting tapping their microphones, Adam’s hand had snuck onto the table where Ronan’s was lying, and latched on.    
Now, Adam was bored, or nervous, or something causing his body to need an outlet, and so his thumbing was moving, and just  _ coincidentally  _ gently rubbing the palm of Ronan’s hand. 

Just  _ holding _ hands was catastrophic enough for Ronan’s levels of chill, and this small movement was only serving to escalate the situation, and all of Ronan’s nerves between his hand and his heart (and also possibly other places), were alight and requiring attention. 

If he let go of Adam’s hand, pulled his own hand away, that would solve the issue, but might unsettle Adam. However, if he kept his hand where it was, and Adam continued to drag his calluses against the most sensitive fucking part of Ronan’s hands, he felt like he very well might explode. 

He was saved before he had to come to a conclusion himself, thankfully, by the speech ending, and the room all clapping. Ronan regained his hand, clapped a few times, and then placed both his hands very purposefully in his lap and out of easy grabbing. 

Adam’s hands returned to the table, where they opted to pick at themselves instead, worrying at the quick of his nails and the chafed knuckles. 

Ronan allowed this to carry on for three minutes of the next speech (some person with purple hair talking about percentages, who knows). Then he could just too easily imagine Adam’s worrying going a little too far and spilling his own blood on the table, and he couldn’t just sit there and watch, could he? 

He reached out, placed his hand on Adam’s thigh, exhaled slowly as Adam jerked a little in stifled surprise at Ronan’s touch. 

“What?” Adam breathed, tipping his head towards Ronan so his voice wouldn’t carry. 

“You’re gonna fucking ruin your fancy hands,” Ronan whispered back, almost absent mindedly squeezing Adam’s thigh and Adam’s muscles tense underneath his palm. “Stop picking.” 

The near constant line between Adam’s eyebrows deepened. “Oh,” he said. His hands stilled on the table. 

Glancing up from Adam’s hands, Ronan could see the guy opposite them watching with thinly veiled interest. Not that they were doing anything interesting, but anything was probably more interesting to listening to a speech which had just said something about future investments. Or, possibly he was just checking Adam out. He wasn’t here with a partner, after all.

Keeping his one hand on Adam’s thigh, Ronan reached with his other hand to take Adam’s closest hand off of the table, and brought it to his mouth, kissed the back of Adam’s hand, his skin rough against Ronan’s lips, and then turned it in his hands to kiss Adam’s palm as well. 

Now the guy opposite was staring, so was Adam. 

“What?” Adam breathed again. 

Ronan didn’t really have a good excuse, except for the fact that they were supposed to be pretending to be together, and therefore Ronan was allowed to be a little jealous if someone was showing attraction to his boyfriend, even if it had to be fake jealousy. 

Ronan dropped his and Adam’s hand down into his lap, holding loosely enough that Adam could pull away easily if he chose to, but tightly enough so that it was obvious he was holding Adam’s hand. He leaned in a little closer to Adam, so his forehead brushed against Adam’s curls. 

“Eyebrows there looks like he wants you to be his fake boyfriend instead,” Ronan whispered, “so I’m being a dutiful fake boyfriend and letting him know that you’re very fake taken.” 

Adam’s hand flexed in Ronan’s, but didn’t pull away. Instead, Adam tilted his head up until his lips brushed against Ronan’s ear. 

“So,” he said, very low, “your plan is to act like we can’t keep our hands off of each other?” 

Ronan would like to point out here, that with Adam so close, and his voice so sweet, it was very difficult for him to keep his hands off of Adam, and in fact, he was absolutely failing in that seeing as both his hands  _ were _ on Adam. 

“Oh, baby,” Ronan intoned lowly, “don’t you remember breakfast this morning? We’re the most PDA couple we know.” 

Adam snorted a little, then pressed forward against just enough to press a dry kiss to Ronan’s cheek. He pulled back, but then shifted in his seat and dropped his head down on Ronan’s shoulder, kept his hand in Ronan’s. 

Ronan felt like he was actually maybe going to die. Eyebrows guy had given up and was looking back up at the speaker again. Success. Maybe. 

-

After the speeches, dinner was served and Ronan had to give up Adam’s hand again, so he kept his other hand on Adam’s thigh, because, well, he wasn’t using it and, well. Well. Adam hadn’t asked him to remove it. 

After dinner was the absolute worst - ice breakers. Everyone was instructed to get up and go sit at a table with an entirely different group of people, and to tell that new group of people their pronouns, favourite food, what you wanted to study, and your name. Ronan figured he’d abided by enough rules so far for the day, and just followed Adam to the next table, because he in no way wanted to have to field an entirely new social situation by himself, and also, how was he supposed to be a supportive fake boyfriend if he was far away, huh??? 

Adam gave him an amused look (all in his eyebrows) but didn’t say anything, simply took Ronan’s hand in his as they sat down again. 

“Ok!” The person at the end of the table they were sitting at seemed to have decided that they were the leader for the table. “Let’s get started, shall we? I’m Zoe, zi/zir, I would say them/they, but it’s more fun having lots of Z’s. My favourite food is zucchini, and, I’m going to study, get this, zoology!” 

Ronan would like to roll his eyes, but he was kind of impressed with zir’s alliteration. He really hoped they weren’t supposed to be remembering everything about everyone, though, because now if it wasn’t alliterated, he wasn’t gonna remember shit. Glancing at Adam, however, it was a little obvious that  _ he _ was doing his literal fucking best to remember every single detail like this was gonna be followed with a pop quiz. Which, who knew, really. 

“Uh,” Adam said, apparently taken by surprise by it being his turn as well, though Ronan  _ knew _ that he’d been prepping what he’d say for the entire time everyone else had been talking. “Hi, I’m Adam, I, uh, haven’t really thought about pronouns, so I guess he/him? I’m hopefully going to be studying medicine, and I don’t actually have a favourite food.” 

“Uh,” Ronan butted in, “yeah you do. It’s rhubarb pie.” 

The table laughed, Ronan glowered a little, Adam snorted indelicately. “Right,” Adam nodded, shrugged, “sorry everyone. My favourite food  _ is _ rhubarb pie.” 

“Good to know,” the guy who Ronan was half sure was called Max (though Ronan had dubbed him Gansey JR in his head because he was wearing an 100% Gansey outfit), laughed. 

Ronan definitely thought it was a fucking useful piece of knowledge, thanks very much Gansey fucking junior. 

Adam nudged him. “Ro,” he said, voice low, “your turn.” 

Ronan cleared his throat, less out of necessity and more out of the need to draw all attention away from the fact that Adam called him  _ Ro _ because that was just going to sit on his mind until the end of time, wasn’t it? 

“I’m Ronan,” Ronan grunted, “and I know Adam’s favourite food because I’m his boyfriend.” Someone snorted along the table, Ronan sent a quick glare in their direction. “He/them. Love kugel. Not studying shit.” 

Adam squeezed his hand, Ronan stared adamantly across the table. He wasn’t actually staring at the girl across from him (Shark tooth necklace girl (possibly Eloise???)), just staring away from Adam and acknowledgement. 

It was hard to tell how the rest of the evening went. Ronan was pretty sure it went well, but he spent the majority of it trying to come off as not entirely wound up, and he definitely could not recollect what the fuck they’d done for the last half hour before they went back to their rooms. 

-

“Well,” Adam called from the bathroom where he was brushing his teeth. “No wonder Noah’s always trying to get you to try out for school performances, you’re a great actor.” 

Ronan grunted, kicked his boots off, and spread eagled on the bed. 

“Seriously,” Adam said, paused to spit and rinse, “I bet even like… Gansey and Blue and Noah would be fooled if they saw that tonight.” 

“Whatever,” Ronan sighed, wriggled his way out of his leather jacket and then yanked his shirt off without bothering with the rest of the buttons. 

Adam appeared back in the room. He’d changed while he was in the bathroom, into loose shorts and a t-shirt, his slacks and jumper over his arm. “So,” he said, voice slow. “Them?” 

“We’re not in the sharing circle right now,” Ronan grumbled, rolling over and off of the bed. “Move, I wanna take a shit.” 

“Wow,” Adam snorted, moved out of the doorway. 

-

Ronan didn’t actually take a shit, he’d already taken one this morning, and if one thing in his whole fucking life was ok? It was his bowels, thank you very fucking much. He pissed, brushed his teeth, washed his face, and turned off the bathroom light as he came back out. 

Adam had gotten into bed. He’d turned the main light off, but had turned the lamp on the other side of the bed from him on. His own lamp was off, though he was lying there with his eyes open. 

Ronan picked his way across the room, shucked his pants and undies in one go while pretending that Adam wasn’t right the fuck there, and pulled on his sweats. He turned of the lamp, and got in next to Adam. 

They hadn’t discussed the whole actually there are two beds thing again, but Adam was definitely implying with that lamp on that they were sharing, so. 

The blankets rustled a little as Adam moved, and Ronan squinted through the dark to watch Adam roll onto his side to face Ronan, then closed his eyes again to give his imagination less to work with. 

“Thanks,” Adam said into the darkness between them. “I really appreciate this, y’know.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Ronan mumbled, “stop trying to make me feel virtuous or whatever.” 

“I dunno if this really counts as virtuous,” Adam said, laughed a little. 

Ronan’s brain extrapolated on what it had, and imagined that the two of them were in love and sharing a bed because that’s just what they always did, and Adam was laughing because Ronan was funny and he loved Ronan and - 

“So,” Ronan said, “how does this work?’ 

“Um,” Adam said, and Ronan hurried to clarify. 

“This scholarship thing,” he said. “Like, there’s like fifty or you all? Give or take, I dunno how many people are just partners or whatever. Do you all get the scholarship?” 

“No,” Adam rolled again, this time onto his back. “We have interviews tomorrow. We had to send an essay in with our application, and we’ve gotta talk a little about our essay. I’m not sure. They choose twenty five of us, though, so. It’s not the worst odds. Plus this is all free for us.” 

“Rich bastards,” Ronan said. 

Adam shoved him, not hard. 

“You’re a rich bastard,” he pointed out, “and I’m not sure these guys count as bastards if they’re literally giving away so much money.” 

“I mean,” Ronan shrugged, “if they have enough money to give away this much annually and still be as fucking rich as they are, they’re obviously not giving enough.” 

“Hm?” 

“I mean,” Ronan extrapolated, the dark room spurring his mouth on. “It’s like that fucking parable, right? The old poor lady gave like, one cent, but it was all she had, so it was more charitable and more generous than the rich fucks who gave thousands, but still had millions at home. Y’know?” 

“Um,” Adam said, then laughed again. “Lynch,” he said, “are you evangelising me?” 

“No!” Ronan growled, “Fucker. I’m just. Explaining.” 

Adam shoved him again, his hand lingering on Ronan’s shoulder, his palm cold against Ronan’s warm skin. 

“It might have been more impactful for the old lady to give all her money,” Adam said, “but her one cent does shit all for the people receiving that charity. Plus now she’ll need to rely on charity, so, doesn’t that just make it worse?” 

“Oh my God,” Ronan groaned, hauled himself up onto his elbow. “Seriously, Parrish? You’re playing devils advocate?” 

“Ew,” Adam laughed, “no. I’m just - no, look, I do get it. I do agree. About the rich people thing. It’s like all those billionaires trying to pretend they’re good people because they give away like, ten grand, when in reality they could give away three fourths of their wealth and still have enough money to live in luxury for the rest of their lives, so - yeah. I do get it, I’m just trying to say it’s  _ cruel _ to say that people who are so poor they have next to nothing have to GIVE their nothing to be charitable. Isn’t it enough that they’re alive?” 

“Ok,” Ronan said, “professor Parrish. But if the rich bastards in the parable had given the same percentage of their wealth to charity as the old lady, then there would be fucking enough for the old lady too, and much more. That’s my point.” 

“If I’m professor Parrish,” Adam said, “you’ve gotta be professor Lynch. You started this lecture.” 

“Shove off,” Ronan snorted. 

“Anyway,” Adam said, his hand coming back to rest on Ronan’s shoulder again. “I don’t see you giving all your money away?” 

“It’s not my money yet,” Ronan shrugged, “plus, when I try to give my money away, some asshole won’t take it.” 

Adam took his hand away. 

“I’m not charity,” he said stiffly. 

“Fuck, no, Parrish,” Ronan rolled onto his side, reached to grab Adam’s hand before he could entirely withdraw from Ronan. “You’re my fucking - uh - friend.”

Adam glared at him, his eyes screwed up in the dark of the room. “You’re on thin ice, here, Lynch,” he warned. 

“For saying you’re my friend?” Ronan scoffed, pushed forwards before Adam could push away. “Man,” he said, “you know I’m never gonna fucking give you more than you want. If you’re fucking freaked out about pity or some shit, rest assured, the only thing I pity you for is your horrifying nerd status.” 

“Dick,” Adam said, let Ronan keep cradling his hand between their bodies. “We should sleep.” 

“Yeah,” Ronan agreed, “oh, should we put a little sign on the bed? That says that we’re dating? Y’know, in case someone drops in to check?” 

“Fuck off,” Adam snorted, “god. Go to sleep, you asshole.” 


	5. Chapter 5

Noah called him the next morning. Or, Noah called him about six times the next morning, and Ronan ignored the buzzing of his phone in favour of shoving his face into his pillow and relishing the warmth where his and Adam’s legs were pressed together. 

Adam was the one who, after a low groan of annoyance, picked up the phone. He fought one arm out of the covers, leaned over Ronan, then stayed in that position - his stomach pressed against Ronan’s hip, one hand for balance on Ronan’s leg under the blanket. 

“Noah,” Adam said, his voice sleep soft and hoarse. “Hi, Ronan’s pretending to be asleep.” 

Ronan couldn’t quite hear what Noah said in reply to that, but Adam laughed a little, then sighed. “Yeah,” Adam said, “ok. Good. He isn’t. I’ll tell him. Bye.” 

Adam ended the call, dropped Ronan’s phone onto the matress behind Ronan, and then yawned, pushing his hand through his hair and stretching before shifting back and off of Ronan to lean against his own pillows again. 

“Noah was just checking you weren’t driving me insane,” Adam informed him, despite the fact that Ronan still had his eyes shut. “And to call him later if you want, because apparently a new game was released, or something.” 

Ronan didn’t reply, and Adam poked him in the cheek. 

“Hey,” Adam said, poked his cheek again, and then caught Ronan’s chin between thumb and forefinger. “I know you’re awake, Lynch.” 

“I’m asleep,” Ronan grumbled, trying not to move his jaw too much so as to not knock Adam’s hand off of him. “Piss off.” 

“C’mon,” Adam said, not pissing off and not letting go of his face even as his grip loosened and his fingers slid up Ronan’s jaw instead. “We said we’d meet a couple of the guys at a cafe down the street before the interviews, remember?” 

“Doesn’t sound like something I’d agree to,” Ronan said, doing his best to keep his breath from hitching as Adam’s fingers rubbed against Ronan’s stubble. 

It felt like Adam was just feeling now, like he wasn’t trying to get Ronan’s attention, or to wake him up, was just ---- Ronan didn’t quite know. Comparing their morning stubble? Enjoying the sensation? Gansey quite liked to rub Ronan’s head right after he’d shave his hair back down to fuzz, maybe this was the same. He opened his eyes. 

Adam was sitting beside him, leaning against his pillows,  _ gazing _ at him in an oddly unfocused sort of way. When he met Ronan’s eyes, his hand left Ronan’s face immediately. 

“You did agree to it, though,” Adam said, sounding much more awake now, “ and we’re meeting them for breakfast in just under an hour, so you better get up so you can shave and look less like a … a murderous hitchhiker.” 

“Maybe they’ll just assume that you’re into murderous hitchhikers,” Ronan mumbled, wishing he’d kept his eyes shut so Adam would have kept stroking his face. 

“Why would they think that?” Adam asked, sounding far too confused for someone who had the highest grades in their year. 

“Uh,” Ronan shoved himself up onto his elbow. “Because we’re dating?  _ Fake _ dating. They think we’re together, so they probably think you like how I look?” 

“Right,” Adam got off of the bed, “I don’t actually care if you shave or not, but I’m gonna. Get up.” 

-

It turned out they were meeting up with  _ three _ people. Three whole new people who, ok, not quite new because Ronan did remember them from last night and they were fine, but still.

Jules and Marco were dating, though they had both applied for the scholarship, and Makda was a friend of theirs from high school who had also applied. 

“My boyfriend’s a classic cis, staight guy though,” she explain after they’d all ordered coffees, “so I just didn’t mention him in my application, even though I know it shouldn’t make a difference. Y’know?” 

Jules and Marco nodded in agreement, Ronan grumbled out a vague noise of assent, Adam was the odd one out. 

“Your boyfriend?” He asked. 

“Um,” Makda smiled awkwardly at Adam, “Yeah? I mentioned him last night.” 

“Yeah,” Adam nodded, “sorry, I just - stupid of me -” 

Makda looked like the end of the stick she was getting here was that Adam was biphobic, or transphobic, or just an idiot, so Ronan stepped in to clarify what end of the stick he  _ knew _ was stuck in Adam’s mouth right now. 

“Yeah,” Ronan elbowed Adam carefully, “I told you you didn’t need to prove that you being bi made you gay enough. You could’ve not mentioned me, like Makda did to her lucky boyfriend, and then I wouldn’t have had to socialise all weekend.” 

Adam nodded. 

Makda didn’t look quite appeased. Now Adam finally stepped up to mark, his brain obviously finished processing things and back to normal working speed. 

“Sorry,” he said, letting his accent bleed through and make him sound even more earnest. “I just - I’m not sure why I was surprised. I’m not… out at home. Ronan’s - Ronan’s the only one who knows. I guess I feel like, like I have to prove myself when I’m around real gays, y’know? God. I mean. I’m not saying you’re not real!” Adam stumbled over himself, apparently not quite up to normal working speed yet after all, “It’s just that I don’t feel like I’m - like I’m allowed to be called gay.” 

Makda finally looked like she’d stepped down off of her fighting stance, and she nodded. 

“I get it,” she said, “it’s hard feeling… so apart from the rest of the community when you have to stay hidden.” 

“I’m only out to half my family,” Marco offered, Jules squeezed his hand on the table, “when I’m with my mum’s side I still have to pretend I’m straight. That Jules is just a friend. It feels like you’re faking sometimes, yeah, but you’re not.” 

Adam looked awkward in the way which Ronan knew meant that he was finding it difficult to let these people try to comfort him, or to affirm him, and that if he knew them better he would have asked them to stop already. He wondered if Adam hated it so much because they  _ were _ faking, just not in the way they were talking about. 

“And,” Jules added, “no one here thinks you’re fake. At all. You don’t need to prove anything to us. Even if some of the guys here are stupid about bisexuality, they don’t count. You’re just as gay as all of us in my book!” 

Adam smiled tightly, let his hand slip from where it had been resting pinky to pink against Ronan’s on the table, down to his lap. 

Their coffees arrived, and they placed their breakfast orders, Ronan ordering a double stack of pancakes after Adam had only asked for a smoothie, because that stupid ass was still going to be hungry even if he drank two smoothies. Adam shot him a look, knowing what he was doing, but didn’t comment. Possibly dining out with three semi-strangers was a good idea, he got to treat Adam without Adam feeling like he could be snappy about it. 

They talked about other things after that. Ronan knew Adam was very carefully shifting the conversation to talk of uni, and upcoming exams, and other such mundane shit. He seemed like… he seemed like something had rattled him, and while Ronan had a pretty good idea what it was, he couldn’t ask while they were out. 

Unfortunately, Adam was one of the first interviews, so Ronan didn’t even get a chance to talk to him alone after breakfast, because the all of them walked back to the hotel and got into the lift together. 

“You’ll do great,” Jules told him as Adam pressed the floor key, “but try not to do  _ too _ great and set the bar too high for the rest of us!” 

Adam laughed a little, shrugged. 

“Let us know if there’re any tricky questions,” Makda added, “like we need to be able to rattle off a hundred and one key LGBT dates.” 

“Will do,” Adam confirmed. 

The lift came to a halt, Ronan figured, seeing as he  _ was _ Adam’s fake boyfriend, he ought to be convincing about his well wishing, so he squeezed Adam’s hand and lifted his free hand to brush Adam’s shoulder so that Adam turned in a little and glanced up at him. 

“Fidem tibi habeo,*” Ronan said, very adamantly not feeling a little weirdly shy about speaking to Adam like this in front of other people who couldn’t even understand him (probably, hopefully). “De victoria tua.**” 

The doors slid opened, Adam’s expression was almost unreadable. Almost. Ronan could see the crinkle in the corner of his eye, the release of tension around his mouth. “Gratias tibi***,” he replied, then smiled. “You need to brush up on your grammar,” he added, holding his hand out to make sure the doors didn’t slide shut again before he could get out. 

“Says you,” Ronan shot back. He figured that if the situation was ever going to call for it, now was the time being called. “See you soon,” he said, didn’t release Adam’s hand. 

Before Adam could reply again, Ronan slid his hand from where it was still resting on Adam’s shoulder, cupped his cheek, and kissed him. A very simple kiss, he wasn’t about to try going full on tongue kissing or whatever for his first ever fucking kiss, and definitely not when it was fake, and also definitely not in front of a lift full of people. 

So. It was a small kiss. A short kiss. Just short enough that only as he pulled back again did he feel Adam kiss him back, just for a millisecond, remembering to act. Then Ronan shoved him out of the lift, and let the doors close. 

He felt like his whole fucking body was vibrating. Was full of bees. Was bright red as like, some shitty beacon of his selfishness, and of their lie. 

“So like,” Jules said as the lift began moving up again. “Do you guys just literally sex talk in a different language in front of people all the time?” 

“Useful for when you’re not out,” Marco grinned. 

“No,” Ronan grunted. “I just fucking said good luck.” 

“Didn’t sound like that was all you said,” Makda jibed, “Did you call him Victoria? And what was that? Spanish?” 

“Latin,” Ronan shoved his hands into his pockets. “And nah. Latin’s just weird and takes longer to say shit in.” 

“So no oral sex, then?” Jules asked. Marco elbowed him with a stifled snort. 

“Jules!” He laughed, “You know that’s a very different thing.” 

The lift arrived at Ronan’s floor, thank fuck. 

“Definitely no oral in the lift,” Ronan muttered. “See you guys.” 

“Bye!” 

-

He called Noah once he was safely ensconced in their hotel room, and once he’d stuffed three chunks of hubba bubba into his mouth. 

“You actually called back!” Noah answered the phone, his glee escaping out and all over Ronan’s ear. “A miracle!” 

“MM”ah,” Ronan got out through the bubblegum, “M’m’ma’M’mam’ke.” 

“Um,” Noah said, “What? Are you kidnapped? Oh! Oh! Are you and Adam pretending that you’re into BDSM and you have to go around with a ball gag in your mouth?” 

Ronan almost swallowed the hubba bubba. He pulled it out of his mouth instead, held it half chewed between his finger and thumb like the horribly disgusting person he was. “What the actual fucking hell, Czerny.” 

“I just like to get in first so that your thing won’t be as weird in comparison,” Noah replied calmly, “You should thank me really.” 

“You’re a freak,” Ronan snorted, “and I don’t wanna talk to you anymore.” 

“Oh you hurt my itty bitty baby feelings,” Noah crooned, then clicked his tongue LOUD in Ronan’s ear. “What up, bitch!” 

“Jeez,” Ronan groaned. “Why did you call this morning?” 

“I wanted to know what hijinks you were up to,” Noah replied. 

“Hijinks? For real, man?” 

“Tomfoolery,” Noah corrected. “Buffoonery. Clownery.” 

“I made a mistake,” Ronan finally repeated, deciding not to follow Noah’s train of thought into synonym city. “A stupid mistake.” 

“Oh good,” Noah said, and then, “I mean, oh, oh no. What? What happened?” 

“Fuck you,” Ronan said without bite. “I kissed him.” 

“Oh good,” Noah said again, cleared his throat. “ _ I mean _ .  _ Oh. Oh no! _ ”

“Fuck you,” Ronan said, just to finish with some symmetry. “Dude. This isn’t good. This is like. Bad. With a capital B.” 

“Why?” Noah asked, “Aren’t y’all just faking?” 

“Yeah. But maybe I’m not,” Ronan hissed, cleared his throat, then cleared it again when his throat decided that actually it did want to be all closed up and unhelpful right now. “Noah. I kissed him because I thought maybe - probably - this will be my only ever chance to, but, you should of seen his face. He’s gonna get back from his interview and be so mad at me.” 

“Why?” Noah asked again, “Did you guys specifically say no kissing?” 

“No,” Ronan sighed, “we said… we said we’d kiss if the situation called for it, or whatever, and like. I think it was a good situation for like. Real boyfriends to kiss. But. I dunno if Adam’ll feel the same way.”

“I think you’re panicking over nothing,” Noah said, far too calm, “did you use tongue?” 

“Oh my God,” Ronan said, hung up. 

-

The interview was supposed to be half an hour long, Adam had said, and it shouldn’t take him anymore than ten fucking minutes to say hi to whoever was waiting for the next interview, and for him to get back to the room. Which was why Ronan was sitting on the edge of their bed not covered in snacks, bouncing his knee frantically while trying to figure out exactly how panicked he ought to be when two and a half hours had passed. 

Adam was mad. He might have gone for a walk to cool down? 

Adam was mad. He wouldn’t have taken Ronan’s BMW and left him. 

Adam was mad. He wasn’t here. 

He had just decided that the answer to how panicked he ought to be was panicked enough to call Gansey, when the card scanner beeped just outside their room, and the door swung open. 

Adam. 

“Hey,” Adam said, walking in like he’d been only thirty five minutes instead of one hundred and fucking fifty minutes. “Sorry I’m a bit later. I picked us up some lunch.” 

He had take out bags in his hand. Smelled like burgers. Burgers wouldn’t take two fucking hours. 

“Not really hungry,” Ronan said. 

Adam looked confused, then tired. He put the bags down on the side table by the door and shut the door. He kicked of his shoes, shrugged off his jacket (a denim thing he’d found at an Op-Shop while helping Blue find things to tear up, and which Ronan was a little bit in love with (not in the kind of way where  _ he _ wanted to  _ wear _ the jacket, but in the kind of way in which Adam put the jacket on and Ronan’s heart was too loud)). 

“I know I was longer than I should’a been,” Adam said. He stayed where he was by the door, leaning up against the wall in his socks. “I - I called Blue. I needed to talk to her.” 

“With what phone?” Ronan grunted. 

Adam shrugged. “I saw a pay phone while we were out for breakfast, and I had enough change on me.” 

“You could have come up here and used my phone,” Ronan bit out. “For fucking  _ free _ .” 

“Yeah,” Adam shrugged again, “but I was going out to pick up burgers for us.” 

“You could have come up here and used my phone,” Ronan reiterated, “and then we both could’ve gone out to get burgers together.” 

Adam looked, for a moment, contrite, and then he shook his head, his hackles rising. “Weren’t you the one just yesterday saying I don’t need to know where you are at all times? You don’t need to know what I’m up to. I don’t report back to you.” 

“That’s not the same!” Ronan replied angrily, knew his voice was rising unhelpfully. “I was out for five minutes at the fucking most, you were gone for two hours longer than you said you would be! I had no fucking clue where you were!” 

“Well now you do!” Adam said, not loud, but very hard, “So just -” 

“You’re insufferable,” Ronan snapped, “I’m going out.” 

“What?” Adam snapped back, “Where?” 

“Oh,” Ronan simpered, hating how he sounded, hating how he was acting, shoving his feet into his boots anyway. “I thought we didn’t need to tell each other that shit?” 

He snatched his phone from the bed, and stomped towards the door, brushed past Adam, slammed it shut behind him cutting Adam off mid word.

Jules and Marco were jamming hurriedly at the up button on the elevator, very carefully not looking in Ronan’s direction. Ronan straightened his shoulders, strode over to join them in waiting. He was taller than the both of them, and he was pretty sure he unsettled them a little. 

“Um,” Jules said, “hi Ronan.” 

“I swear we weren’t listening in,” Marco said, not bothering with any beating around bushes, “we were just coming by to ask if you two wanted to come out for pizza with us, and we heard the yelling so we turned back around -” 

“We’re fine,” Ronan said curtly. 

“Um,” Jules said again. 

“Uh,” Marco said, “like, don’t take this the wrong way, man, but like, pretty sure it’s good relationship 101 to not yell at your partner during a fight.” 

“Well I guess I’m a shitty partner!” Ronan snapped, definitely taking it the wrong way. “And it’s none of your business.” 

“Well no,” Jules said, “but like. You look like you could use someone to talk to.” 

“Does Adam need someone to talk to?” Marco added. 

“Adam’s got his ex, apparently,” Ronan grunted, spilling far too much too easily, “so he can always call her again if he wants.” 

“Oh,” Jules said. 

The lift finally arrived, and Ronan stepped quickly in, hammered on the button for the bar/restaurant (bar). Jules and Marco followed him in. They didn’t press any buttons. 

“Look,” Jules continued, once the lift was moving and Ronan was stuck in there with them. “We’re not experts, or Adam, but we’re probably a better choice then just stewing around in your… jealousy and -” 

“I’m not jealous,” Ronan snapped, shoved his hands as far into his jeans’ pockets as possible. 

“Yup,” Marco nodded, “okay, you’re not jealous, but you definitely have some kinda stew happening here.” 

“I’m not going to stew,” Ronan said, jabbed at the button again as if that would make the lift move faster, “I’m going to marinate.” 

“Ah,” Jules said, “well, oh, are you legal?” 

“Nope,” Ronan popped the p, “but who’s gonna know?” 

“The bar staff here check ID,” Marco said, grim, “we found out yesterday.” 

“No  _ offence _ ,” Ronan sniped, “but you still look prepubescent.” 

“Oh,” Marco shrugged, “none taken. I know my youthful looks will serve me well later in life, when you’re all craggy and yuck.” 

Ronan snorted despite himself. 

“Come have a soft drink with us,” Jules tried, “and tell us what’s up?” 

“Why the fuck do you even care?” Ronan asked. 

“Oh I don’t,” Jules said, his smile suddenly very reminiscent of Noah. “I just like to gossip.” 

“I care,” Marco said, “because you and Adam seemed really decent, plus, we were hanging out just earlier and you guys seemed so… so  _ in love _ , so it’s just confusing, really.” 

The lift stopped and the doors opened, Ronan stepped out. Jules and Marco followed again. Ronan stopped, just a few steps out into the hallway, hands still in his pockets. 

No one knew him here, not really, only Adam. No one knew he was supposed to be hard and calloused and keep all of his feelings locked up inside himself. No one knew he wasn’t supposed to actually be in love with Adam. 

“I love him,” he confessed, voice low, “like. Really love him. Like. I can’t -. Shit.” 

Marco patted his back in awkward consolation. Ronan missed Noah, missed Gansey, missed Adam, missed Blue. Even if she was possibly a spark of jealousy right now. 

“So why the fight, man?” Marco asked. 

-

They got ginger beer. Ronan was pretty sure he could have gotten real beer if he wasn’t with these two - Marco with his hairless face and Jules with his little pube mustache. 

“That was the first time,” Ronan mumbled into his drink, he’d opted to keep it in the bottle because he preferred to hold it and pick at the label. “The first time I’ve kissed him in public. You know he’s not out. I’m not either. I’m not in, but I’m not out. I just - I think it scared him.” 

“And that’s why he called Jane?” Marco confirmed, “You said you’re all still friends. So it was more like - like he needed the stability of something he knew, y’think?” 

“God I don’t know,” Ronan groaned, took a swig of his drink, got ginger fizz up his nose, muscled his reaction down. “I just. It’s less that he called her. It’s more that he called her and didn’t tell me he was gonna be gone for so long --- he doesn’t have a phone, I couldn’t text and check up. I thought the interview had gone badly, and then I thought he was mad at me, and then - I just -” 

“Yeah,” Marco was patting his back again. 

“I shouldn’t have yelled,” Ronan mumbled, “I know that. I hate that I did that. I just - I just wanted him to be straight with me.” 

“Maybe you should ask him to be bi with you,” Jules suggested, then held up his hands and grinned as Marco and Ronan shot him joint glares. “Sorry!” 

“I feel like,” Ronan said, pretending he was dinking beer, and he was tipsy, and that was the only reason he was allowing himself to be speaking, and feeling so freely to such strangers. “I feel like he’ll go to university and he’ll never think about me again. I’ll just be his past. His shitty past. And I -” 

Fuck. His throat was closing up again, and his eyes were stinging, and he couldn’t even blame his heavy sniff on the bubbles in his drink because he hadn’t taken a drink. 

“Oh,” Marco said, moved a little behind Ronan, Ronan was pretty sure he was making wordless requests to Jules, because a second later Jules was patting his back too. “No. I’m sure that won’t happen.” 

“Yeah,” Jules said, “we might have just met you, but like, it’s pretty easy to tell how much he’s into you. How into each other you both are. Like, if this is how y’all act back home, I think you’re pretty much out to everyone.” 

“It isn’t,” Ronan cleared his throat. “We don’t get to - we don’t - we’ve never -” 

“Shit man,” Marco said, “hey. Hey, uh, it’s ok.” 

“It’s isn’t,” Ronan repeated, wished to high hell he’d never fucking let them follow him out of the lift because it wasn’t fair that he was only a quarter of a way through a fucking  _ ginger _ beer and he was in literal tears, shoving the heels of his hands up into his eye sockets to try and keep his cheeks dry, swallowing down on the sharp thing in his throat. “It isn’t.” 

“Oh,” Jules said, “hi, Adam.” 

Ronan put his head down on the table, because that just seemed the easiest response. 

“Hi,” Adam’s voice was quiet, subdued. “Jules. Marco. Ronan?” 

Ronan declined to answer. 

“Do you think you guys could, uh, give us a minute?” Adam said. 

“Ronan?” Marco asked. 

Ronan would have laughed at how careful they were being with him, but he was too busy attempting not to dissolve into a puddle of shame and… grief onto the table. He waved his hand in release. 

The chairs on either side of him squeaked, and then Marco and Jules each gave him one final pat, made their farewells, and were off. 

Adam sat down on his left. Didn’t touch him. 

“Are you drinking?” He asked. 

Ronan shook his head. 

He heard Adam lift his bottle, probably to read the label, and then a swallowing sound as Adam took a sip himself. 

“I didn’t realise how upset you were,” Adam said, his voice brittle like he’d been worrying over the words and had to get them out quickly before they just broke. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sorry.” 

If anything good came of this weekend it would be that he and Adam both were gonna be better at fucking saying sorry (and also Adam might get a fucking scholarship, whoopdeedoo).

When Ronan didn’t reply, Adam tried again. “Did you bump into Jules and Marco down here?” 

“No,” Ronan gritted out, cleared his throat. “They overheard our, uh, romantic tiff, and informed me that I was a shitty boyfriend.” 

Adam was silent for a long moment, digesting. 

“You’re not a shitty boyfriend,” he said at last, and Ronan scoffed. 

“Apparently level 101 of being a good partner is knowing not to fucking yell,” Ronan said, kept his head down because  _ apparently _ reminding himself of this brought a fresh batch of tears to his stupid fucking eyes. “So I don’t even pass level one. Shitty boyfriend.” 

“Ronan,” Adam sighed. His hand was on Ronan’s elbow now, his fingers curling around Ronan’s arm. “If anyone’s the shitty boyfriend, it’s me.” 

Ronan snorted. Adam sighed again. 

“Listen,” Ronan said, cleared his throat yet a-fucking-gain. “I was thinking about how. How if you wanna keep being friends with the people you meet here, how this fight we’re having is actually good for you. A great pre-packed reason for you to have broken up with me, and not have to ever tell anyone it was all a lie.” 

Adam didn’t say anything. 

“I don’t wanna be your fucking fake boyfriend,” Ronan said, said it to the table because he wasn’t sure if he could bring himself to say it to Adam’s face. “I want you to fake break up with me right the fuck now.” 

“Lynch.” 

“Nah,” Ronan’s forehead was beginning to hurt a little with how hard he was pressed into the table. “I hate this. Being your fake boyfriend. I hate it.” 

Adam’s hand removed itself from Ronan’s arm. He missed the warmth of it immediately. 

“Where’s all of this coming from?” Adam asked, and he was wearing his carefully crafted and cultivated voice of a politician. A moneyed student. An elite. It was cracked though, cracked just enough for Ronan to hear his fear. “You were fine with this this morning.” 

“You tell me,” Ronan snapped, “you’re the one who freaked out after I kissed you. Had to disappear for two hours to talk to your  _ ex _ instead of me.” 

Sometimes when confronted like this, Adam would just leave. He’d stand up, clear his things, and go. Sometimes he’d say they’d finish the conversation later. Sometimes he wouldn’t. Every other time this was directed at Gansey being dumb, not at Ronan. 

Ronan fucking desperately didn’t want him to leave. 

_ Please _ .

“I called Blue,” Adam said, sounding a little far away like he’d leaned back in his chair, or like he was half way disassociated. “Because I needed a less biased opinion on something. Because she’s more likely to tell me the truth, and not what she thinks I want to hear.” 

Ronan didn’t understand. 

“And?” he demanded. His face was finally behaving, so he lifted it from the table, rubbed at it roughly with his hand, would have glared at Adam if he wasn’t cut short by how deflated Adam was looking, sitting there with his arms around himself, in just his t-shirt and jeans, shoes unlaced. “Did you hear what you wanted to hear?” 

“No,” Adam breathed. “But I heard the truth.” 

Ronan could think of a million truths that Blue could have told him. A million and one. He had thought he had been doing reasonably well at keeping his… affection. Desire. Love for Adam under wraps, but, Blue had sharp eyes, and a psychic family, so. It was probably too much to ask that she would keep this from Adam when she knew he needed the truth. 

“So,” Ronan said, voice rough, not quite as rough as his throat, “why aren’t you fucking dumping me already?” 

“Ronan,” Adam said, “I think we’re talking past each other.” 

“You sound like Gansey,” Ronan snapped. 

“That’s hurtful,” Adam replied, “but also a bit of a compliment. Just. Wait. Listen, please?” 

Ronan huffed. He couldn’t bear to keep looking at Adam, so he stared at his bottle instead. Remembered that Adam had drunk from it. 

“I acted stupidly,” Adam said, hushed, “real stupid. And so did you. And I think we’re both confused about what’s actually goin’ on. We can stop pretendin’ about this datin’ thing right now, if that’s what you need, but please. Can we go back to our room and properly talk about this?” 

Ronan had never more in his life not wanted to properly talk about something, and a doctor had once asked him at age thirteen to please properly talk about his 'bowel movements'.

“Fine,” he grunted. “But you know I’m right. That we can’t keep pretending we’re together, or were together, not if you wanna stay friends with anyone here.” 

“Shit, Lynch,” Adam whispered, leaning in close over the table, his hand finally returning, if only to grasp Ronan’s wrist tightly. “You’re the only fucking one here I truly care about staying friends with, ok? If I walk outta here tomorrow with everyone hatin’ me but you, I’ll be ok with that.” 

“No you wouldn’t,” Ronan retorted. He closed his eyes briefly. “Ok. Let’s go back to the room.” 

* -I have faith/yo i believe in u man

** -You will be victorious/u gon WIN

***-Thanks/i love u ronan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tune in next week for more of Ronan crying!!!!!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> didn't wanna leave you on the cliff edge for too long, sorry guys :P

“Ok,” Adam said once they were back in their room, and Ronan had thrown himself face down onto the snack bed, chip packets bouncing as he landed. “I have to - I haven’t been straight with you.” 

“Jules said you ought to be bi with me instead,” Ronan mumbled, moved a licorice log out from under his face. 

Adam huffed out what sounded like an attempt at a laugh. The floor creaked just a little, and then the opposite bed sighed as Adam sat down. Ronan could imagine him there, his elbows on his knees, his face somber. 

“Asking you to - to lie. To be my fake boyfriend. That was wrong of me,” Adam said, voice hilted like his breath kept catching on his words. 

Ronan didn’t really agree. He kept this to himself. 

“It was self serving,” Adam said, and now he sounded bitter. “Selfish of me.” 

Ronan shifted, turning his head so he could look at Adam past the reece’s pieces packet, could see how Adam’s face was twisted with contempt at himself. This wasn’t how this was supposed to be going. 

“I was too caught up in wanting to feel… comfortable, and safe, and… and…  _ real _ , that I didn’t - I didn’t take you feelings properly into account.” 

Oh, here it came. 

“You have every right to be angry at me,” Adam said, sighed, his face was in the process of closing off. “You thought you were doing a favour for a friend, that everything we were doing was… was strictly platonic, but I was - I wasn’t - I wasn’t feeling the same way.” 

Now Ronan was confused again. He sat up. Something crunched under his butt. 

“When you...kissed me,” Adam said, eyes glued to his knees, “it really hit me how much - how gross I was being. Using you. How - how - how much I - how much I wanted it.” 

“What the fuck,” Ronan said, watched as Adam’s shoulders slumped all the more. “What the fuck are you saying right now?” 

“I’m saying,” Adam cleared his throat. “That I’m - I wasn’t really - I didn’t realise how much I liked you. Like.  _ Like _ like you. But as soon as we started pretending it was real, I did realise, and I was never - none of my s’posed to be fake affection or touch was fake.” 

Ronan felt like he was going to actually explode. 

“What,” Ronan said, his brain working overtime to try and flatten this all out into something easy in his head. “So, you called Blue to get her to make you admit to yourself that what, you think I’m a sexy fucking beast?” 

Adam shrugged. “More or less,” he mumbled, “but. No. To admit that I - it’s not just… physical attraction.” 

“But when you got back,” Ronan argued, scooting himself over to the side of the bed so his feet landed on the carpet and bumped against Adam’s. “You just - you tried to act like nothing was weird. And then you - you were fucking shitty.” 

“Thanks for the recap,” Adam said. He was still looking down, his whole body held together in a way that made Ronan’s shoulders ache. “I know. I didn’t know what to do with it.” 

“You’re a fucking idiot,” Ronan said, couldn’t stop himself from sounding at least a little irritated. He’d spent all morning freaking out over nothing apparently, and now he was exhausted from emotions and… and fucking crying, and so yeah, he was a bit pissed off. “You imbecile.” 

Adam nodded, like he accepted this. 

“You think I can act like that? You think Jules and Marco and Makda literally think we’re in fucking love because we’re good actors? You think I’d be even half as upset about you - about you being  _ late _ if I wasn’t also so fucked up from pretending that my reality is fake?” 

Adam looked up now, eyes narrowed, eyebrows down. “What?” 

“Oh my God,” Ronan groaned, kicked at Adam’s trainer with his own booted foot. “I thought you were fucking pissed off at me because I kissed you and you figured out that I’m in fucking love with you. That you called Blue to confirm.” 

Adam’s mouth fell open, which was so unlike him, that Ronan snorted, kicked his foot again. 

“So? Are you for fucking real?” 

“Uh,” Adam said, “yeah. What. Are you?” 

“Jesus, Mary!” Ronan groaned, “Yes. Dipshit.”

“So,” Adam said, “uh. Do you still want me to fake break up with you?” 

“If it’s to real get together with me, yeah,” Ronan said, then pulled a face, “and also yeah if you don’t wanna get together with me for real. I can’t do this fake anymore.” 

“Yeah,” Adam nodded, “you’re an all or nothin’ kinda guy.” 

“Yep,” Ronan shrugged, suddenly all too awkward. “So? What’s it gonna be, Parrish?” 

“I want this to be real,” Adam said, sniffed, cleared his throat, “I don’t wanna fuck around about this anymore. I wanna be with you for real.” 

“You sure?” Ronan asked, hating asking that as he asked it, “You said it, remember, I’m an all or nothing kinda guy. I don’t wanna go into this if we’re gonna fucking fuck it up in a couple of months. You gotta want this.” 

“I do,” Adam said, exasperated, he stood up suddenly, swiveled, and dropped himself down next to Ronan, grabbed at Ronan’s hands, squeezed them in his own. “I want this. For real. For good. I want you to kiss me again and not have to pretend it doesn’t mean anything.” 

Ronan didn’t mean to be difficult, but it probably was built into his DNA or something, so. 

“You have to kiss me,” he retorted, “I kissed you last time.” 

Adam raised his eyebrows, but he looked amused over anything else, which was a much nicer turn of events. “We keeping track?” He asked, “will we always have to take turns?” 

“Maybe,” Ronan shrugged, enjoying the ‘always’ in Adam’s question. 

“Ok then,” Adam said. His eyes kept dipping down from Ronan’s eyes to his lips, but now they didn’t flick back up. 

He reached across the barely there space between them, brushed his thumb against Ronan’s cheek like he had done this morning - though it felt like it had been days since - swallowed hard, kissed him. 

It was like the lift kiss in the fact that it was quick and simple and very gentle, but it was entirely unlike the lift kiss because in this instance they were both contributing to the actual kiss part. 

When Adam pulled back, eyes fluttering open, cheeks darkening, he looked taken aback at Ronan’s expression, and then confused. 

“What?” He asked, didn’t drop his hand from Ronan’s face. “Why’re you - what’s with the face?” 

“Just waiting to make sure you’re not gonna change your mind,” Ronan said, felt mean as he said it. “Gotta make sure you’re real,” he amended. 

Adam tweaked his cheek, skewered him with an unimpressed look, and then leaned in to kiss him again, very firmly. 

“I’m real,” Adam said, kissed him again, “I’m not gonna change my mind,” he said, kiss, “I want you,” kiss, “so goddamned much,” kiss, “and I should’a told you earlier.” 

“Yeah,” Ronan said, paused to let Adam kiss him again, “you should have.” 

“You could have told me earlier too,” Adam pointed out in between the light kisses, “I wasn’t the only one pretending.” 

“Well I thought -” Ronan shook his head, leaned in to meet Adam’s mouth half way, tried again. “You don’t look at me like you like me. Not like how you looked at Blue.” 

Adam pulled away, thankfully leaving his hands still on Ronan; one on his face, the other gripping his hip. 

“How I looked at Blue?” Adam repeated, frowned, “Why would I have to look at you how I looked at Blue?” 

“Uh,” Ronan wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and then returned his hand to gripping at the hem of Adam’s t-shirt like he was forestalling Adam leaving. “Because you dated her? Because you are, or were, or are, attracted to her?” 

“Was,” Adam said, “and I am attracted to you.” 

“You don’t look it,” Ronan argued. 

“You should ask Noah,” Adam said, “he’s called me out for looking at you like a - like a lovestruck rooster, apparently. Blue said I look like an alien confronted with sour nerd candy for the first time, and I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean, but it does mean that I  _ do _ look at you in a  _ way _ .” 

“What?” Ronan said, “Noah knows?” 

“Sure,” Adam shrugged, “he ribs me about it all the time.” 

“Oh my God,” Ronan groaned, “he’s such a duplicitous whore. He knew I like you too.” 

Adam snorted, groaned. 

“So,” Adam said, closing his eyes briefly as Ronan shifted his grip from Adam’s shirt hem to press his fingers against his stomach instead, “you didn’t tell me you liked me because I didn’t look at you the same way I used to look at someone I dated for barely a month?” 

Ronan shrugged. It made sense. 

“Look,” Adam said, “I like you so much. I’m so attracted to you. My… neediness for you this weekend ought to have proved it, honestly.” 

“You are pretty needy,” Ronan said, added onto it quickly so Adam wouldn’t be offended. “I liked it. Like it. Love you.” 

“Okay fine,” Adam said, “go ahead and one up me. That’s fine.” 

Ronan shrugged. 

“Kiss me again,” he requested, and Adam quickly complied. 

  
  


-

There was another joint dinner that night, to officially end the event, so they had to tidy themselves up a bit again. They had eaten the burgers (cold) about an hour after they had returned to their room, but it had been long enough that Adam’s stomach was rumbling again, despite the three bags of chips they’d shared between them. 

They bumped into Jules and Marco in the hallway on their way to dinner, and Marco looked from their joined hands to their faces and smiled. 

“You two made up, then?” he asked, altogether too open. 

“We don’t wanna hear about the make up sex,” Jules added, though he grinned as he spoke. 

“Good,” Ronan snapped, “‘cos I wasn’t gonna tell you about it.” 

“Can’t tell what didn’t happen,” Adam shrugged, then smiled a little awkwardly at the other two. “Yeah. I’m… sorry if we worried you guys. It was a stupid miscommunication.” 

“Parrish is clever,” Ronan said, squeezing Adam’s hands, “but that doesn’t stop him from being stupid as fuck.” 

Marco laughed, Jules rolled his eyes and batted his boyfriend on the shoulder. 

“Let’s go in,” Adam suggested, “I’m starving.” 

“Emotions are hungry work,” Marco said sagely. 

-

Dinner tonight was a much more casual event than the previous night. The speakers were mainly thanking everyone for coming, and how nice it was to talk to everyone, and blah-di-blah, they be in touch very soon, here listen to someone talk for ten minutes about their own experience of being gay in university. That last bit was actually kind of nice, and Ronan knew that Adam appreciated hearing it, but Ronan was all too caught up in the fact that again, they were holding hands on the table top, but this time? Ronan was allowed to enjoy it. Was allowed to let his body shiver as Adam brushed his thumb against his palm. Was allowed to feel his blood thrum under his skin when he leaned closer against Adam and Adam responded by kissing his cheek gently, his eyes still fixed on the speaker. 

Tie-dye and Mohawk turned up at their table for dessert, bringing with them their sundae boats. 

“Rohan,” Tie-dye said, tapped him on the shoulder. 

“Uh,” Ronan said, “it’s Ronan.” 

“God,” Tie-due groaned, “sorry! And damn. I lose the bet.” 

“The bet?” Adam asked, shifting in his seat so he could see the two of them better. “That Ronan is Rohan?” 

“I couldn’t remember,” Tie-dye sighed, leaned in against her girlfriend, who snorted and lifted her arm up to hold her. “And so I bet Kit that he was called Rohan because he looks like the kind of punk who’s actually a huge nerd.” 

“He is a huge nerd,” Adam confirmed, freed one of his hands from Ronan and held it over the back of his seat. “Hey, I’m Adam. Um. Ronan mentioned meeting you guys in the lift?” 

-

Though it was nice getting to be real dating Adam in public, in a very gay friendly place, Ronan was still pleased when they went back to their room for the night. He had been surprised that Adam hadn’t insisted they drive home straight after his interview, when Adam had told him their travel plans, but pleased as well. Adam had said that his teachers were more than happy to excuse him from one day if he was traveling for a scholarship, and so long as he didn’t fall behind. Ronan didn’t bother asking his teachers what they thought. 

So. It was nice getting to go from holding Adam’s hand in public and thinking that was all it would be, to getting to hold Adam’s hand in public and knowing that as soon as they went back to their room he’d get to kiss Adam again, for no one but themselves. Not proving anything to anyone. 

Adam was postponing the kissing a little by insisting they get ready for bed, which was a little disappointing. 

“We have to get up early tomorrow,” Adam was pointing out around his toothbrush while he brushed his teeth and ignored Ronan with his arms around Adam’s waist and his head on Adam’s shoulder. “So we should get to bed early.” 

“You don’t have work tomorrow,” Ronan pointed out, shifting to let Adam bend at the middle so as to spit toothpaste out, “so we don’t need to be back at any particular time.” 

“I’d prefer to be home sooner rather than later,” Adam said, rinsed his mouth, “I can drive if you don’t feel like it.” 

“Nah,” Ronan sighed, swiveled and let Adam lead him back out of the bathroom, “I just wanna make out with you, like, right now, and you getting ready for bed and packing is much more boring.” 

Adam snorted, but didn’t immediately fling himself around to cover Ronan in kisses. Instead he put his bag onto the bed and started to tidy it up. 

“Adam,” Ronan said. 

“Mm,” Adam acknowledged, tucked his toothbrush away. 

“Adam,” Ronan repeated. Adam patted Ronan’s hand on his waist. 

“Are we telling the guys that we’re together?” Ronan asked, “When we get back? Do we get to be together in front of them?” 

“Oh,” Adam said, like he’d finally put together why Ronan was still clinging to him. “Yeah. I thought so? I don’t want us to be a secret, Lynch.” 

“Ok,” Ronan said, didn’t release Adam. “So I can kiss you at Monmouth?” 

“Sure,” Adam said, zipped his bag up. 

“And I can kiss you at Blue’s?” 

“I guess,” Adam said, dumped his bag by the side of the bed, and began making his way over to the snack strewn bed. 

“Can I kiss you at school?” 

“Um,” Adam said, beginning to sweep whole swathes of junk into a pile. “Uh, maybe?” 

“Maybe?” Ronan pressed, “Maybe like, no, or maybe like, yeah, but not in front of certain people?” 

“I don’t wanna be a PDA couple,” Adam said slowly, “I’m happy to kiss you… anywhere. In front of anyone. But I don’t want to be gross about it.” 

“You’ll be kissing me,” Ronan pointed out, “in a gay way. There’re gonna be people who think that’s gross no matter what.” 

“I know,” Adam said, then turned his head to squint at Ronan. “Is there somewhere you  _ don’t _ want us to kiss? Someone you don’t want us to be out to?” 

“No,” Ronan said, quick, “no. I’m fine with anything.” 

“That’s blatantly untrue,” Adam said, turning back to the snacks and beginning to shovel them into their bag. “But hey. We don’t need’a know everything we want right away.” 

“Don’t you always?” Ronan mumbled, dug his chin in a little over Adam’s shoulder into his clavicle. 

“Ow,” Adam said, though it sounded more like a response than actual pain. “I like to think I do, but I obviously don’t. You forgotten this morning already?” 

“Won’t be forgetting that in a while,” Ronan snorted. Sighed. Waited until Adam finally turned around in his arms and reached up to cup his face. To say his name gently. “Are you going to be ok,” Ronan said, quiet, “if your parents hear about us?” 

Adam looked at him, his lip caught between his teeth, the furrow between his brows deep. He nodded. 

“Yeah,” he said. “What’re they gonna do? Hate me more?” 

Ronan shrugged one shoulder, tugged at Adam’s hand. “Let’s go to bed.” 

-

The night previous, Ronan had been very careful not to let himself touch Adam too much accidentally in bed. An occasional brush of knees was fine, but he had to keep his hands entirely himself, had to make sure he didn’t unconsciously curl up around Adam’s back, or in Adam’s arms.

Tonight, when he got into bed, Adam opened his arm out along the pillow and held in there until Ronan climbed in and rested his head on Adam’s shoulder. He kissed Adam on the jaw, waited for Adam to tip his head down, kissed him on the mouth. Held him over his pajama shirt by the waist and kissed him until it felt like his lips were gonna burn off.    
  
Went to sleep in Adam’s arms. Woke up in them too. 

-

They made sure to get Jules and Marco’s numbers before they left. Makda’s too.    
  
Adam chose all the music on their way home, doing his best to pick out ones that he thought Ronan might like, succeeding more often than not. 

They stopped in again at the waffle place, for a waffle lunch this time. Possibly displayed more PDA than last time, kissing over their plates. 

“Stay with me tonight?” Ronan suggested, Henrietta bright on the horizon. 

“Uh,” Adam said, sighed, stretched out his hand from his lap to press his knuckles to Ronan’s cheek. “I have to get ready for school, Lynch.” 

“Let me stay with you?” 

“You have to get ready too,” Adam pointed out. 

“I can drive back to mine before school. Get changed.” 

Adam was silent for a while, his fingers moving absentmindedly against Ronan’s skin. 

“Let’s drop in at Monmouth when we get back to Henrietta,” Adam suggested eventually. “Pick your stuff up. Than go to mine.” 

That was a better option. 

“Kiss in front of Gansey?” Ronan added on to the suggestion, “Break the news by going down on each other in front of Gansey?” 

“If it’s all the same to you,” Adam snorted, “I’d prefer our first time to not have an audience.” 

Ronan grinned, lifted his hand up to his face to catch Adam’s hand, to bring it to his lips to kiss. “But kissing is in?” 

“I don’t mind,” Adam said, but then he grinned. “Would it be funny, or cruel, if we just… didn’t tell anyone? Waited until they figured it out?” 

“Noah’s gonna know,” Ronan pointed out. 

“But he already knows we both like each other,” Adam pointed right back. “He might just think that we’re just even worse at being subtle now.” 

“You wanna bet how long it takes them to guess?” 

“Yeah,” Adam laughed, “but I’m not putting any money on it.” 

“Sure,” Ronan shifted gears, “Ok, herre. I bet twelve kisses that Noah will figure it out within a day, a milkshake that Blue will figure it out on Wednesday before dinner, and one makeout session that it’ll take Gansey until next weekend.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i lied about ronan crying more, -_(*u*)_-


	7. Chapter 7

The funniest thing was, they didn’t even try to hide it. 

They got back to Monmouth late afternoon, and the both of them got out to say hi to the other two, and to let Ronan swap out his weekend clothes for his school uniform (bits of it, at least,) a kiss for Chainsaw, and whatever else junk he wanted from his room. 

Adam fielded questions from Gansey about how the scholarship went, watched as Ronan and Gansey gave each other a quick hug, and then snorted as Noah followed Ronan off to his bedroom with the expression of a small dog who just knows he’s getting treats in a minute. 

“I see you and Ronan are still friends,” Gansey said, smiling up at Adam from where he was sprawled along the floor, craft glue sticking his fingers together while he tried to hold two carboard walls up. “I’m glad! I must admit I was a little worried you’d come back separately after some catastrophic fight!” 

Adam knew Gansey was saying this only  _ mostly _ in jest, and he didn’t offer up the fact that they did almost have a catastrophic fight. Instead he shrugged, and sat himself down next to Gansey to offer his assistance in holding the walls until the glue held properly so that Gansey had better chance of keeping his fingers. 

“Do you think you’ll get it then?” Gansey asked, peeling long strips of dried glue off of his fingers. “The scholarship?” 

“Hard to tell,” Adam said, would have shrugged again, but didn’t want to risk jolting his hands. “There were a lot of people there who could use it just as much as me, or more, and are twice as twice as qualified as me.” 

“That’s a lie and a half,” Ronan called, striding out of his room with Noah in tow (Noah with the expression of a small dog who was  _ promised a fucking treat _ and yet recieved no fucking treat). “Parrish’s probably gonna get the message next week that they decided to just bundle up all the fucking scholarships and give ‘em all to him.” 

“Don’t be stupid,” Adam snorted, removed his fingers from cardboard delicately to check the hold. “It’s a fifty fifty chance I’ll get it.” 

“Ninety eight, to two,” Ronan corrected, nudged Adam in the ass cheek with his boot, “C’mon, man, let’s get.” 

“What?” Gansey looked shocked, Noah looked ecstatic, “Where are you two off to already?” 

“Staying at Parrish’s,” Ronan said, “He’s the only one I can stand to do homework around.” 

“Wha-” Gansey started again, then turned to Adam instead, “What? How did you do this?” 

Adam accepted Ronan’s hand, stood up. “I have no idea,” he said truthfully, “I’ll fill you in when I figure it out.” 

“I bet,” Noah announced from over by the couch, where he had been standing with his eyes narrowed, “that they’ve got a swap going. Ronan does his homework, and in return, he can play Murder Squash in the car.” 

“It’s true that Ronan played a lot of Murder Squash on the way home,” Adam said, shot a quick glare at Ronan who simply shoved him playfully in return. “Ok, see y’all tomorrow?” 

“Indeed,” Gansey said, apparently reverting to proper politician’s son when confused. 

-

“I think they’ll figure it out quicker,” Adam said once they got to his and Ronan had insisted on carrying everything up himself. “We’re not exactly subtle.” 

“Well I think that’s the trick of it,” Ronan said cheerfully, chucking his and Adam’s bags together and Adam’s bed. “If we’re so overt, Gans has no reason to think anything’s going on. He only really figures out I’m up to something if I’m sneaky or avoiding him.” 

“This is avoiding him,” Adam pointed out, gesturing at Ronan and the fact that Ronan was standing in his flat.

“Isn’t,” Ronan pointed out right back, “this is me wanting to spend more time with my boyfriend.” 

“What,” Adam said, ignoring the warmth in his stomach. “A whole weekend together alone isn’t enough?” 

“You weren’t really my boyfriend the whole weekend,” Ronan said. He was stepping slowly towards Adam while Adam fiddled the keys in his hand. “Not really.” 

Adam had often - mostly in his head - likened Ronan to a shark, the sharp way he smiled, the dangerous aura emanating off of him (which wasn’t attractive at all, definitely not). Right now, the way Ronan was pacing slowly towards him made Adam feel a lot like a small fish in a large sea being circled by a shark. Now it wasn’t just his stomach that was warm, his whole body felt like it was tingling with anticipation. He dropped the keys on his desk, stepped deliberately a little out of Ronan’s path to take his shoes off - stepping on the heels of his sneakers and leaving them tied up. Ronan corrected his path, Adam grinned. 

“Are you really going to do your homework?” Adam asked, keeping his voice light as he stepped back against the wall, as Ronan stepped in closer.

“Maybe,” Ronan said, eyes fixed on Adam, “depends on how much time we have.” 

“All evening,” Adam said, swallowed to wet his throat. “All night.” 

“Hm,” Ronan took a final step to end up with his thigh between Adam’s, his hands on Adam’s shoulders. “Doesn’t sound like much time.” 

Adam rolled his shoulders under Ronan’s hands until Ronan dragged his hands down, slow, rubbed down his arms, repositioned themselves against Adam’s ribs. 

“We could work on a schedule,” Adam mumbled, let Ronan lift one of his arms to wrap around Ronan’s shoulders. “Start with Latin, finish with bed.” He curled his hand around Ronan’s nape, scratched his fingers lightly through the stubble there. 

Ronan kissed him then, his mouth hot against Adam’s, his chest flush to Adam’s chest like he was trying to merge their ribs. It felt like the kind of kiss you get when you haven’t seen each other in weeks, a hello kiss, a thank God you’re back kiss. Adam kissed him back the same. 

It did feel a little bit like a welcome home kiss. Like now they were here, in Henrietta, back into their lives, that this was  _ real _ . That as soon as they’d begun this kiss the fact that they were  _ them _ was now an official part of Henrietta. Welcome  _ home _ . 

“God,” Ronan said, pulling out of the kiss roughly, his voice like gravel, “ _ God _ . Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to do that?” 

“Um,” Adam said, because he had a vague idea. “Kiss me? We’ve  _ been _ kissin’, Lynch. This isn’t new.” 

“Kissing you here,” Ronan said, dipped back in to press a bruising kiss to the corner of Adam’s mouth, his hands scrabbling for purchase against Adam’s t-shirt like he needed to pull Adam closer still. “ _ Here _ . This place is - this place is as close to The Barns as I can get, some days, and having you  _ here? _ Fuck, man.” 

It wasn’t eloquent, and neither did was he really saying much, but Adam understood anyway. Adam felt similar. Not the same, of course, he didn’t have the kind of history with the church as Ronan did, didn’t have the same affection running deep in the veins of the streets, poured in there by being loved, and loving, and family, family, family. Still. This was the first place he’d been able to call home, even if it always felt a bit like a shallow home, a place he was going to leave eventually for a better home. 

  
So. He got it, but he hadn’t felt it deep in his gut like Ronan did until now with Ronan gripping tight to him, and that look in his eyes. He kissed Ronan again, trying to answer that he  _ knew _ , he understood Ronan, he got Ronan. 

-

The next day at school, Ronan kicked out poor Richards who usually sat at the desk next to Adam during Latin, and Gansey watched apparently bemused as Ronan sprawled out in his newly claimed chair and Adam set out his class things. 

Ronan may have done some of his homework last night, but Adam certainly had no fantasties that Ronan was about to become some sort of… good student, so he wasn’t dismayed about Ronan not getting out his class stuff. It was good enough having Ronan beside him, pressing the entire length of his leg against Adam’s like he had some idea that they could fuse together. 

They’d discussed - briefly - last night about whether or not they’d be  _ out _ at school. Ronan had shrugged and said that he didn’t care either why, and really? Adam didn’t think he cared. He was on track to finishing this year with high flying grades, didn’t really care anymore for the adulation of his fellow school mates, and had very negative feelings about hiding him and Ronan being himandronan. So they had decided they’d handle it much like coming out to their friends, simply not hiding it and letting people come to their own conclusions. 

Maybe this was a dumb idea, but it was also kind of a funny idea, and definitely a better idea than announcing it to the class. Plus Ronan said he thought it would be hilarious watching to see which teachers figured it out first. Ronan did have a weird sense of humour. 

They sat next to each other in Bio anyway, so Ronan didn’t have to tip someone else out of their chair to press the side of his hand against Adam’s until Adam put down his pen and let Ronan link their little fingers. If Gansey had been in this class with them, Adam was pretty sure he would have put two and two together. 

Or then again, maybe not.

During lunch, Ronan may as well have been wearing a t-shirt that said ‘ADAM PARRISH IS MY BOYFRIEND’, seeing as strode over to the group of them with large hot chocolates in both hands (Adam had just had English class, and he thought that Ronan must have just have had wagging class, and had spent that period going to a cafe), collapsed down next to Adam, kissed him on the cheek, and handed him one of the drinks. Adam took a sip, tasted coffee, re-evaluated what Ronan had brought him. 

“Ronan,” Gansey sighed, not properly looking up from his notebook in which he was scribbling down an essay layout. “I wish you’d actually come to Maths, sometimes.” 

“Uh,” Ronan said, “if I went to maths, who the fuck would buy my honey bunchkin his special mocha with cream and cinnamon?” 

Gansey snorted, looked up to roll his eyes at Adam. “I’m sorry, Parrish,” he said, “I dunno what’s in to him today.” 

Ronan snorted as well, Adam fought down his own snort, took another sip of his mocha. 

“I don’t mind,” he said as clearly as he could, had to bite back a proper laugh as Ronan shuffled impossibly closer and put his head down on Adam’s shoulder. 

Ronan was absolutely hamming it up, and Gansey was still somehow unaware of what was actually happening here. 

Noah, on the other hand, had had the same orange segment in his mouth for the entirety of this conversation, and was watching it go down very carefully. 

-

Adam and Noah shared last period, chemistry, and Adam wasn’t at all surprised when Noah shuffled his chair a little closer to Adam’s, and leaned in close enough that their safety goggles clinked together. 

“You and Ronan,” Noah said, loud enough for Adam to hear over the chatter in the room, quiet enough that no one else would be able to.

“Uh-huh?” Adam asked, still very carefully measuring out the right amount of liquid. 

(He enjoyed sharing Chemistry with Noah, because it meant he got to partner up with Noah for all the experiments, which meant he got to do all of the work because Noah was adamant that if he tried to pour any sort of volatile substance he’d definitely go crazy and he would blame Adam for his villain backstory. Adam had tried - not very hard - to remind Noah that the water in the vial Noah had refused to touch, was literally just water, but to no avail.) 

“You’re doing the do, yeah?” Noah said. 

Adam did not spill the liquid, but it was a near thing. “What?” 

“Y’know,” Noah said, “Cave diving. Checking the oil? Crushing Buns? Giving the dog a bone? A bit of waka-waka?” 

“What the actual -” Adam coughed to cover up the truly hysterical laugh he was sure he would have released. “Noah!” 

“Well?” 

“No,” Adam shook his head fervently. “Yeah, we’re dating, but we’re not… any of that.” 

“Ah,” Noah shrugged, “I thought, what with how desperately he’d been pining and lusting over you, that’d you be straight to it.” 

Adam stared. 

“But I guess,” Noah continued, undeterred, “he is Catholic, he does have a whole Vatican of issues. Did he say y’all have to be celibate until marriage? Oh, does his church allow marriage? Are you gonna be celibate until death? Or is like, touching over the blankets ok?” 

Adam covered Noah’s mouth, swallowed down another hysterical laugh. “Czerny,” he said, fondly, “We’ve been datin’ for barely three days, I think we’re allowed to have not, uh, gone any further. Plus, we’re actually not gonna tell you when we do.” 

“What?” Noah wailed around Adam’s palm, “What am I gonna tell my twitter followers then?” 

-

“I owe you seven kisses,” Adam informed Ronan later that day. 

He’d just finished up at Boyd’s, and was going to walk home, but, lo and behold, Ronan had been waiting in the car park. 

“Oh?” Ronan said, not starting the car yet either because Adam hadn’t done up his seat belt, or because he was waiting for the seven kisses. “Noah figured it out?” 

“Yup,” Adam snorted, “I thought he’d have hounded you already.” 

“I haven’t seen him since lunch,” Ronan shrugged, “he had drama practice. What’d he say?” 

“A whole heap of crazy euphamisms for sex,” Adam rolled his eyes, glanced over his shoulder at the empty car park, and then leaned in close to Ronan. “And he said he wouldn’t tell anyone yet, unless Gansey or Blue specifically ask him.” 

“Y’know,” Ronan said, tipping his head down towards Adam, “he’s good at loopholes, he may decide that being specifically asked could constitute as Blue asking what’s up.” 

“True,” Adam said, didn’t really care. Kissed Ronan. “One,” he said. 

-

They didn’t see Blue at all the next day, in fact, Adam barely saw Gansey or Noah, at all. He had to take a test to make up for one he missed on Monday, during lunch period, and then he was working, and by the time he’d made it home, it was well past dinner, and Ronan was on his doorstep with a large milkshake. 

“If Blue knows she hasn’t informed us that she knows,” Ronan said, staying where he was as Adam climbed up the stairs towards him, “so here’s your milkshake.” 

Adam took the milkshake, took a long gulp of it, relieved for something in his stomach. “Stay for dinner,” he said, held his free hand out to Ronan. “I have hot dogs.” 

-

Wednesday morning he woke early, which wasn’t unusual, but he woke early enough that he still had time to lie in bed before his alarm went off. Ronan had stayed over, was asleep still, head basically in Adam’s armpit. 

“Hey,” Adam said, cleared his throat, shifted onto his side and wrapped his arm around Ronan’s shoulders. “Hey.” 

“G’r’ff,” Ronan grumbled, “I’b’sl’n. A’m?” 

“Do you wanna have sex?” Adam asked. 

“What?” Ronan replied, much clearer. He shifted up onto his elbow, squinted at Adam. “Right the fuck now?” 

“Nah,” Adam said, stretched until his back pop. “I was just --- wondering. What your thoughts were on sex.” 

“Uh,” Ronan said, “that it sounds good?” 

“Yeah,” Adam nudged, “but like. Look, I’m not asking you to have sex right now, or even like, any time soon, I just wanna - I just wanna know what your thoughts are on, uh, sex before marriage.” 

Ronan flopped back down, swung one of his legs over Adam’s, and groaned into the pillow. 

Adam waited. Ronan dragged his head up to face Adam. “Seriously?” 

“Yeah,” Adam shrugged. “I mean. Noah mentioned - I know Noah says a lot of crazy stuff, but he also says a lot of crazy true stuff. He brought up the fact that you might - well that -” 

“Oh,” Ronan said, “ha. Nah. I mean. I do agree that sex shouldn’t be, like, mindless,” his cheeks were very pink, but his expression was stoic, “but like, if Noah was - I’m not waiting ‘til marriage. Just ‘til love.” 

“Ah,” Adam said. 

“So, like,” Ronan cleared his throat, “according to that, like, technically? We could do it whenever.” 

Adam was pretty sure his face was entirely matching Ronan’s blush. 

“But,” Ronan cleared his throat again, his stoic mask slipping a little, “I, uh, um. Well.” 

“Yeah,” Adam nodded quickly, “yeah I don’t think I’m ready either. I mean like. I’d wanna be datin’ you for a lot longer first. I mean - I know that we’re - we already know each other real well, but I still -” 

“Oh yeah,” Ronan nodded back, fervent, “absolutely agree. Yup. Sure.” 

Adam nodded a little more, then snorted, laughed outright, pressed in to kiss Ronan hard and a little sloppy. When they pulled out of the kiss, Ronan had his eyes shut. 

“Think these kinda conversations ever get less awkward?” Ronan asked, fumbled with the sheets until he got Adam’s hand, threaded their fingers together. 

“Yeah,” Adam said, bent forwards to kiss at Ronan’s fingers between his own. “When this is less new.” 

-

“Adam,” Gansey called as the bell rang for morning tea. “A word?” 

Gansey had been weird all through their shared class, not the normal Gansey weird, but a sort of subdued contemplative Gansey weird. Adam put his pencil case back into his bag. 

“Yeah, man,” he said, “What’s up?” 

Gansey held his hand out for a fist bump, Adam responded in kind, and they both waited until the rest of their class - teacher included - filtered out of the room. 

“I’ve noticed,” Gansey said, quite slowly, “I’ve noticed that Lynch - well.” 

Ah, so here it was. 

“The both of you, really,” Gansey mumbled, “you’re spending a lot of time together.” 

Adam shrugged. 

“If it’s something I’ve done,” Gansey continued, his voice low but very firm, “or said, that’s offended either of you - well - I - I am so sorry. More sorry still that I don’t know what it is I’ve done, but if you tell me, I -” 

“Gans,” Adam cut in, completely aghast, “no, no, that’s not it at all, man, I’m - God. No, Gans.” 

Gansey stopped, bit at his lower lip. He had been making eye contact with Adam while speaking, but now he dropped his gaze to the desk. “Well,” he said, “I don’t - I know something is different, and I know you two, and even Noah to some extent, are  _ keeping _ something from me, and -” 

“Ronan and I are dating,” Adam said all in a rush, “and we were just waiting to see how long it’d take y’all to figure it out. I’m sorry that it felt - that it felt - that you felt bad. You’ve done nothing wrong. I guess it’s just - we’re spending so much time alone because it’s just so new. Y’know?” 

Gansey blinked at him, opened his mouth as if to speak, swallowed, blink again. “What?” 

“Me and Ronan are together,” Adam tried again, “um, Noah already guessed, on Tuesday. We haven’t told anyone, but like, we’ve been holding hands in public a bit, and like, Ronan’s kissed me like, a  _ lot _ at school. So. We’ve just been - yeah.” 

Gansey blinked a few times again. “Does Jane know?” 

“Not that we know of,” Adam said quickly, “uh, but we haven’t really seen her since we got together, so.” 

“When did this happen?” Gansey asked, “When you two got back from the scholarship?” 

“At the scholarship,” Adam shrugged, “it’s a, uh, a long story, really.” 

“Well,” Gansey nodded at the clock, “we have some time.” 

-

“So,” Adam mumbled, barely a breath away from Ronan’s lips while they lay in Ronan’s bed that evening after Adam had finished up at the factory, “seeing as I told Gans, does that mean neither of us owe the makeout?” 

“Fuck that,” Ronan shook his head, “we both lost so we both gotta pay up.” 

“Ahh,” Adam feigned enlightenment, “how wise.” 

“Well you see,” Ronan said, began peppering kisses between words onto Adam’s cheeks, “you’re the jock in this relationship, and I’m the brains.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK Y'ALL for making the writing of this a delight! Thank y'all AGAIN for the fact the you keep coming back for my unedited late night scribblings, I appreciate it a lot xxx


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